


The Second Defector

by ButtertheNutter



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButtertheNutter/pseuds/ButtertheNutter
Summary: You have been living underground with your family for months now. You are nearing your eighteenth birthday and are needing some rebellion in your life. You have wished to join the resistance but have had to refrain due to your parents' wishes. Just when you feel your life is at its most boring, John defects.





	1. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The compound receives information that may change their future for the better. You are keen to learn more.

 

You lie in bed wondering what tomorrow will bring. Tomorrow is the eve of your eighteenth birthday and such a mixture of feelings flood you.

 

You’ll finally be treated like a woman. Finally able to leave the confines of the compound unsupervised; maybe even trusted to use a rifle should any cultists make an appearance. Your father has been so annoying recently. You’ve been ready to aid the resistance for months now but he seems hell-bent on wrapping you up and protecting you from ‘those damned peggies’.

 

When this whole thing started, your parents had underestimated how far it would go. Initially they had regarded it as ‘some silly fad’, but then the police had disappeared from the streets and then that huge ‘YES’ had appeared on the side of the mountains. When the statue of Joseph was erected, your father began to get growing concerns over the safety of his family. People started going missing. At that point, he reached out to other like-minded people who worried for the state of their beloved Hope County and its children. When crosses appeared at the side of the road with corpses nailed to the posts, huge letters S I N N E R carved into their chests, they withdrew underground with other terrified families. The fathers pooled money together to create a little compound around an underground bunker You and your little sister were moved and have spent the subsequent months hiding away from the horrors above.

 

Mother and Father have tried so hard to keep the reality of the situation hidden in order to protect you and Callie. Callie had always been blissfully ignorant of the happenings above, but you are older and wiser. You’ve seen people leave and never come back. You’ve seen those who do return and you see what state they are in. The memories aren’t pleasant to recall.

 

You turn onto your side and heave a sigh.

 

What will you do with your new status? For so long you’ve been wanting to be treated as one of the adults. You eavesdrop on the conversations between the cougars and the white tails and watch people leave on rescue missions.

 

Maybe you’ll teach yourself to shoot straight away and aid the resistance. Or perhaps you’ll be a driver. Surely there is much less danger in that. You’re not too keen on the idea of blood and gore. Plus, father wouldn’t like that.

 

Drugs and alcohol aren’t your thing either. What about sex?

 

You’d always imagined that your first time would be with Connor. You danced together at prom and he had treated you so well. But then he’d joined The Project at Eden’s Gate and Father had forbidden you to ever see him again.

 

But you have been exploring your sexuality recently and your tentative explorations have led you to believe you’re ready to move forward. If only you could meet someone.

 

You bury your head deeper into the pillow in an effort to persuade yourself to sleep. Your eyes betray you and stay open and you stare blankly at the wall until dark shadows are cast fleetingly onto the metal where the glowing orange light used to be.

 

You turn your head sharply to look toward the part-open door and see figures beyond hurrying down the corridor. There’s a sense of urgency that intrigues you.

 

Silently, you tiptoe to the door and wait until the last of the runners pass, and then you slip carefully through the gap.

 

You follow the runners who have all converged in a small control room. Their voices are hushed and urgent. You hide somewhere round the corner so you can hear what they have to say.

 

“Damnit, Shelby. Is everyone alright?” You hear one person say.

“What’s going on?” Comes another voice.

“I don’t understand. The patrols reported nothing,”

“Isn’t Rogers out there tonight?”

 

“Please,” comes a commanding voice, then a pause.

 

“John’s defected.”

 

A sudden disbelieving silence, a stillness washes over the room for a few brief moments. You can feel the tension but you don’t quite understand why. Then, as quickly as it came, the quietness ends with an eruption of murmurs, gasps and angry conversations.

 

John. You’ve heard the name. He’s one of the Seed brothers. Not to be trusted so you’ve been told. You’ve seen him on the TV before but can’t quite summon his image. You seem to think he bares resemblance to his brother, which again is hard to picture since there are no images of the Seed family down here. What does ‘defected’ mean? Your attention is drawn back to the control room with the sound of an angry fist being banged on a metal table.

 

“I’m telling you now, you can’t fucking trust him!”

“But you can’t let an opportunity like this pass, seriously!”

“Oh come on! He’s finding a way in! He doesn’t mean it,”

 

A man’s voice bravely interjects.

“What’s the plan? Surely you have a plan.”

 

The commanding female voice returns.

“Yes, thank you, Den. When everybody is ready to listen...” she paused “...I will tell you that Sheriff Whitehorse is in talks with John Seed and John Seed only. He appears to be alone in his defection and is en route to be taken into our custody.”

 

There are a few appreciative mutters. It seems many are appeased by the measures that have been taken.

 

“Where we gonna keep ‘im?”

“Well, Janice, I have agreed that Whitehorse may bring the defector here for-“

Shouts of protests break out once again as people in the control room jostle to be seen and heard. Apparently, no one wants this John within 20 miles of them.

 

You continue to listen.

 

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

“You know who this guy is, right?!”

“You’ve seen what he does! He could do that here! No way!”

“Those Peggie shits are gonna come for him and give away our position!”

“My daughters live here’”

 

That was father’s voice. You chance a look around the corner and see a tightly packed group of people huddled around a stern looking woman with long blonde hair. She is doing well to keep them at bay. They are clearly riled and scared. John must be pretty bad.

 

The woman holds her hands up.

“Please. I appreciate you are all feeling apprehensive. But I can assure you that John will be suitably restrained and under supervision for the duration of his stay. You and your families are quite safe.”

 

This seems to calm the group of people. Some take their hands off of their pistols. Others shuffle their feet. Some take their rifles in their arms ready to return to their posts.

 

“He will be arriving within the hour. May i suggest that you all return to your regular duties.”

 

There’s a movement of bodies. Shit. You have no time to move. One person walks past you and gives you a shifty glance. Then, father. He’s angry to see you.

 

“Maggie! What are you doing out of bed?”

You hang your head, your thick hair falls in heavy locks over your shoulders.

“You’re not eighteen yet, young lady. I’ve told you before about walking around the compound after hours, have I not?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” you reply.

 

He gives you a brief kiss on the top of your head and you shuffle off back to your bedroom.

 

As you walk in, you notice Callie asleep in bed on the other side of the room. She is always so calm. So positive. If she knew that one of the Seed brothers was coming here, she wouldn’t care. She’d go on about her business. She spends days with Rose, the lady who volunteers to teach the few children unfortunate enough to live underground, or with Boomer, the resident pooch. She’s good with animals.

 

Come on, Maggie. Sleep. You throw yourself down onto your bed and slam your head into the pillow, frustrated with the things swimming around in your mind. Things like, why is John Seed so feared? What will he be like in person? Is he telling the truth?


	2. The Defector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just hours after notification, John arrives at the compound. You are desperate to steal a look at the man who has become feared and revered in equal measure.

 

An hour or so after the commotion of the news, you wake to the sounds of heavy metal doors opening. You sit bolt upright. _Is he here?_

Further sounds of movement emanate from beyond the bedroom door (which is still ajar). The scraping of a heavy metal bolt, the drag of feet, the clinking of restraints echo around the stark, cold walls of the bunker.

 

Your heart beats a little faster than it was beating a mere few moments ago. You know you should stay in bed. You know you should lie back down and close your eyes and ignore the impulse to follow the noises, even if it does sound like they’re getting closer. You bite your lip. You so want to go and see. You want to see this notorious man that everyone’s been talking about. But you also know you’ve been in trouble once already tonight. To be out of bed again would surely be risking it too much.

 

You glance over to the alarm clock you have sat on a shelf next to your bed. It displays in bright red numbers that it is 2:12am. _No way._ There is no way that you’d get away with it if you were caught. Reluctantly you return your head to the pillow. Your tired eyes pull downwards and you feel yourself start to fall into a sleep.

 

But then from behind the door, you hear closer, quicker footfalls and someone panting.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” they wheeze “…it’s actually him. He’s here.”

“You’re joking! Here? Now?!” asks a second person.

“We’ve gotta go prepare a cell. Now. Room K5.”

“Well, shit…”

 

You hear them both run off and now the original footsteps are drawing nearer. This is your chance. As silently as you can, you peel back the covers and pad your way over to the door. You know your father wouldn’t be walking alongside John Seed. He’d be turning in for the night. It might even be safe to poke your head out. No one around here has ever ratted you out.

 

You do so, and as you do, they round the corner.

 

With slow, meaningful strides, two men walk down the long corridor towards you, both of them armed with rifles. Their faces are stern and serious, their lips pressed firmly together. One of them notices you watching from ahead and you flinch, but he instantly returns his stare to the end of the corridor. Between them walks a familiar man slightly taller than them both. It is now that you notice that the men flanking him are restraining him. One holds his hands behind his back, and the other has a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the corridor.

 

That’s John Seed. You recognise him now. Of course. He is wearing a trench-coat with curious detailing, and you think you can just about make out a belt before you are drawn to his face. It is so brooding that it strikes you as something to fear. His eyes flash bright and blue beneath dark, heavy lids. You are fixated on his face. You don’t understand how something can be so menacing yet so endearing. He is taller than he appears on TV. He is also far more intimidating in the flesh. You are still staring when the party walk past, and time almost stands still when he turns his head to look at you. He sees you staring. Yes. He sees you staring…and his lips curl into a smirk. You’re too overcome by surprise and shame to realise how delicately his fingers moved in their bindings behind him and that as he passed, you inhaled an unfamiliar smell of gunpowder and mint.

 

You hurl yourself back into your room and lean against the wall, chest rising and falling frantically. Your heart is pounding harder than it ever has done before. You’ve seen some pretty bad things since Eden’s Gate took over Hope County, but being so close to John Seed was something else entirely. He filled you with fear and intrigue. He drew you to him like a magnet. But you are clever enough to know better than that.

 

You crawl back into bed and look over towards Callie who is still fast asleep. Before turning over, you set your alarm to wake you in two hours.

 

* * *

 

The harsh sound of the alarm brings you crashing into the present and you fumble around for it. It’s loud and it will wake people up, especially down here where every noise reverberates from the walls. You smash your hand down over the clock, silencing it in the process and shoot a look across to Callie. She’s still asleep.

 

For the third time tonight, you tiptoe across the bedroom to the door. You check the coast is clear by looking up and down the long corridor lit by ugly orange lights. It’s deserted, so you edge cheekily out of the gap and hastily move down the corridor.

 

You know where room K5 is.

 

You just want to see him. If only to make a judgement for yourself for once in your life. On your way, you pass your parents’ room and you peer around the door to check they’re asleep. They are. You continue.

 

You wind your way through corridors, around corners and down stairs until you arrive in the corridor with room K5. You know it’s a fairly basic room, not much different, except there’s a window into the room.

 

You approach it cautiously. If anyone caught you down here now, you could kiss goodbye to your eighteenth birthday celebrations. Your hands are sweaty and your heart beats feel like huge hammers in your chest. When you get to the window, your heart rate reaches astronomical levels because you can see into the room and it’s lit by bright white lights and in the middle, bound to a wooden chair, sits John Seed.

 

His arms are still behind his back, his knees are spread wide and his head hangs down. He is trying to sleep. _He must be uncomfortable_ , you think.

 

You watch him for a minute or so. He doesn’t do very much at all. His head rolls around a little, but you are actually looking more at his posture. He looks pretty vulnerable right now. What are his intentions? What could he possibly have done to make everyone behave so? You still don’t know what ‘defected’ means.

 

Suddenly, he lifts his head and looks straight through the glass that separates you. Those eyes - so piercing. But then he breaks into an enormous grin that catches you so off guard that you bolt and run back the way you came.

 

You run and run, taking two steps at a time, rounding corners at lightning speed until you run straight into a person.

 

“Umph!”

The person apologises and holds you at arm’s length and then realisation dawns on both your faces. It’s Bobby, your father’s friend. Shit.

 

“Maggie? What are you doing?”

You falter and stand with your mouth hanging open, praying that he won’t tell.

“Wait, were you just-?” He turns his head in the direction you came and back to you again. He doesn’t look pleased. You have the sense to hang your head in shame.

“Maggie, that man is dangerous. We have taken a great risk by bringing him here. We can’t afford to heighten the risk with you wondering the corridors on your own, much less looking for that damn psychopath!”

 

You mumble an apology and something close to a promise that you won’t do it again.

 

“I mean it, Maggie. Your father would be furious if he found out.”

You raise your head.

“No, I’m not gonna tell him. Just behave, okay?”

“Okay. I promise.”

 

Bobby nods and turns to leave.

“No, wait, Bobby?”

“Mmm?”

“What does ‘defected’ mean?”

You see Bobby’s shoulders drop.

“It means he’s come over to our side. Doesn’t make him good, though.”

 

Bobby watches you return to your bedroom and closes the door firmly behind you. You return to bed for the third time tonight and fall asleep with the image of John Seed in your head and that frightful smile.

 


	3. Laid to Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return to see John Seed. He fascinates you. He's not in a good way, but you both talk a little.

 

One day to go until you turn eighteen, and today, you get people giving you supportive looks and smiles. Some of the resistance approach you to offer words of encouragement. Strong, fierce women leading armed convoys to take out the most powerful cult in America actually take the time out of their day to put an arm around your shoulder, show you their rifles and their SMGs and welcome you to the resistance. Brave men in modest armour give fist bumps and high fives, knowing you’re next.

 

You, Maggie, have been waiting for this day, and they’ve been waiting for you. The reality of it is, the resistance is struggling and they so desperately need able-bodied men and women to fight the good fight. You’re next in line to join. This of course is much to your parents’ dismay. They spend the day pretending that they don’t notice the interest in you. Especially father. He couldn’t bear to lose his little girl. He’d rather have you darning socks and making dinner, safe in the bunker. But that’s not you. You’re ready and everyone else knows it. Thankfully, they aren’t as cold as that, and you know that when you join, they’ll have your back. No one’s expendable.

 

Today there is a lot of interest in John Seed. Many times you see groups of serious-looking resistance leaders heading in the direction of his cell and you wonder what goes on in there.

 

Earlier, when you took Boomer for a walk around the compound, you heard two people discussing his arrival.

 

“Did you see him?” one of them asked.

“Nah, didn’t get to. What was he like?”

“Dude, I’ve never seen scars like that. Fucking scary!”

 

Later in the day, one of the resistance members comes to take you for a shooting lesson. You leave the compound together in a truck with a couple of pistols and a rifle in the back and you spend the afternoon shooting tin cans off a fence in the middle of nowhere. Her name is Jess and you’ve spoken before. She’s smiley but strong and you’re glad that it’s her that’s taking you out for shooting practice.

 

She teaches you how to load both guns and aim. She also tells you how important it is to stay on the move because the peggies don’t stand still either. The sun begins to lower in the sky and the shadows of the trees that flank the field stretch across the grass.

 

“Well done,” says Jess as she gives you an approving nod. You lower your gun with your eyes still on the can that lies still on the ground.

“Jess...” you begin.

Jess raises her gun and aims at her own can.

“What’s he like?”

“Who?” she replies as she closes an eye and sticks out her tongue to focus on her target.

“John Seed.”

She heaves a sigh and lowers her gun. She squints in the sun as she looks you in the eye and closes the small gap between you.

“Hey. Don’t you worry yourself about that asshole Seed. He’s no good.”

“But he’s defected, hasn’t he? I mean, doesn’t that mean that he wants to help us?”

“Maggie, his whole job was to brainwash people into believing him and his whole fucking circus. He can’t be trusted! John Seed says he’s defected but all I see is a murderer safely in our custody. Just pretend he never happened.”

 

You pretend to accept this from Jess. She’s the second person now to tell you that John can’t be trusted and you do actually believe her...but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to see him again. In fact, you’ve already decided that you’ll visit K5 again tonight.

 

When you return to the bunker, you find your parents with Callie and the four of you head to the dining hall for dinner. You all discuss the plans for tomorrow, the outfit you’ll wear, the people you’ll see, the things you’ll all do. There is a buzz of excitement in your family as other people begin to drift over to join the conversation. Many resistance members remind you of what you’ll be able to do and where they’ll take you. They talk openly about past missions, famous landmarks that you haven’t seen yet and the angels that wonder round Hope County. Callie listens enraptured but all you can think about is how no one mentions John Seed in the cell a few floors below them.

 

People start to move out; some retiring to bed, others heading out on night watches and patrols. Your parents usher Callie to bed but allow you your last night before turning eighteen to reasonably go as you please. You choose to stay in the dining hall for a while for no particular reason, but you realise it affords you an opportunity to plan your visit to the defector again. However, you don’t realise that your opportunity is about to arise.

 

Your attention is drawn to people converging on one side of the dining hall. There are whispers and muted conversations before the people quickly depart and it isn’t long before the dining hall is deserted. This leads you to one conclusion. They have all gone to the same place. And if they’ve all gone to the same place, that means something has happened.

 

You rise, and at a safe distance, you follow them.

 

You are led to a similar kind of control room as the one in which you heard the first conversation about John Seed’s defection.

 

You listen in from around the corner and the same commanding female voice you recognise as Shelby’s sounds.

“You see, here’s the thing, Ladies and Gents…John Seed cannot be touched.” This time, there are no angry protests or shouts. There is no panic. Shelby actually sounds as if she’s scolding the adults in the room.

“I have called you in due to concerns regarding his safety and well-being. John Seed is a valuable asset and currently holds information that would greatly aid the resistance. We cannot afford for him to become hostile. If things continue the way they are, I will have no choice but to use disciplinary measures and install cameras outside of his cell.”

There are a few disgruntled moans but not much more. Shelby’s tone seems to soften when she realises she isn’t encountering any resistance. “Look…I realise what the Seeds have done to us, to our families, to our Hope County, and to our children. Their crimes will not go unpunished, but first we need to defeat Eden’s Gate with every resource available…and John Seed may just have given us the upper hand in this fight.”

 

There is a long pause as everyone lets this sink in. You can feel how conflicted everyone in the room is. You can feel how they are having to put their hatred of John to one side.

 

“I am not expecting you to be civil towards the man. But the violent attacks on John Seed stop here and now. Tomorrow, we will question him and see what he has to say for himself.”

 

You sense the end of the meeting coming and decide quickly that this is your chance. You slip away without anyone noticing and head in the direction of K5.

 

With everyone in the meeting, the corridors are empty, and no one interrupts you on your way down there. You haven’t even thought yet about what you’ll do when you get there or what you’ll say. Perhaps you’ll just look at him and that’ll be enough.

 

Room K5 is in sight. You run to the window, interested to see those eyes again, that devilish smile. When you get there, the man you saw walking in yesterday has been replaced with something smaller and slimmer. Much slimmer. His hands are still behind the back of the wooden chair he sits on. His legs have been untied and one of them is out straight whilst the other is bent. His head hangs low. He looks a mess. You look again, closer this time, and you see that his lip is bleeding and his eye is bruised. His face is cut in various places. His trench coat is draped across a metal table at the side of the room. The clothes he still wears remain intact, a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a waistcoat, but you can bet he’s been punched several times in the stomach and there may well have been some attacks to the groin. He’s been beaten. He looks defeated.

 

Then, his head slowly rises. He notices you through the window and he gives a weak laugh.

 

Despite your better judgement, you open the door and step inside. He watches you as you close the door behind you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again, girl.” His voice is a smooth drawl with a mocking tone. “I thought I’d scared you away.” He scoffs. You ignore him and take a few steps closer. You look at him and take in every inch. He eyes you as you do this, a look of both confusion and amusement on his face. He finds your interest comical. You circle him and look at his hands, bound by cable ties behind him. He has been in them for so long that his wrists are cut and bleeding. He doesn’t complain though. On one wrist he wears an expensive looking watch with a leather strap. Your gaze travels up his forearms which are covered in tattoos. You look at his face. That face. You can’t quite believe what that face has done. His bright blue eyes shine through the blood dried to his eyelashes and the blue bruises that circle them. His cheekbones are bleeding and bruised and his top lip is cut and swollen. Though, he looks at you and he smirks.

 

“Ahhh this is nothing, girl. You should have seen how I looked when my father beat me. Rotten man.”

“You probably deserved it.” You surprise yourself with your confidence. After all, John Seed is a murderer, psychopath, sadist cultist, and his legs are untied. The chair he sits upon does not look secured to the floor either.

“HA!” he throws his head back in laughter. “No. I deserve this, girl. I didn’t deserve what my father did to me. No boy does.”

“Is that why you are the way you are?” you bite your lip as you ask. This is probably a bad idea to be conversing with John Seed. He shrugs.

“Yeah I expect so. Not making excuses for myself or anything.”

“What about your brothers? Did he beat them too?”

“He beat us all. But Father had a special hatred for his youngest son. My brothers were horrified by what he did to me.”

 

You pace the room slowly, not taking your eyes off of John Seed.

 

“Look…” he says. “…I don’t know what they’ve sent you in here for, but could you do me one favour?”

You screw your face up. How on earth can he be asking for favours? “By the sounds of things, you’ve already been granted enough favours. What are you after now?”

“Nothing too taxing, my dear.” He sniggers a little. “But I have an itch above my left eye. Been niggling for hours now. I’m normally a patient man, but…as you can see…my hands are tied…”

 

You scowl but then proceed to approach him, and extend your fingers to his face. He flinches beneath your touch and tries to mask the hisses of pain as you gently scratch above his eye.

“Ahh, thank you…uhh…”

“Maggie.”

“Thank you, Maggie.”

He shifts in his seat, wriggles his feet and lifts his hips slightly, perhaps to get a little more comfortable. All you do is watch. He fascinates you. His belt buckle in particular stands out to you as it flashes in the light, fitting snuggly around his narrow hips.

 

“So, Maggie…tell me about yourself.”

You falter for a few seconds. What to tell him? You realise there isn’t much to tell at all. “Erm, well…my name is Maggie, I’m seventeen and I live here...”

He sniggers at your poor attempts at social engagement.

“Stop it!” You are suddenly furious. “It’s because of _you_ that I’m down here anyway! It’s because of _you_ that I don’t have any friends!”

“Is it now? I think you more likely have my dear brother to thank for that.”

“Oh really? Because you haven’t done anything wrong?”

He chooses to ignore your sarcastic tone.

“Oh I’ve done plenty wrong, girl. But I have atoned for my sins.”

Now it is your turn to snigger, but he is quick to react.

“You don’t believe me?” he becomes suddenly serious. “Come here.”

“What?! No way!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, look. I’ll behave myself.” He brings his legs underneath his chair and crosses them at the ankle. You take tentative steps forward until you are within reach of his legs. He doesn’t move and so you are satisfied.

“Look beneath my shirt.”

At this you take a noticeable step backwards.

“What?”

“Oh come, come. Nothing like that. Just look.” You can see that his shirt is already unbuttoned a fair bit. You approach and see a mark across his chest. It’s angry red letters, and as you near him, you see they spell out the word S L O T H. Without a second thought, you reach out to touch them and John doesn’t move. He neither recoils nor moves forward into your touch. The letters are raised and will be there for the rest of his life. You think about how high up on his chest they are, constantly visible; a reminder to him of his sin.

“There are more.” Your hand stops moving over the scar across his chest and you look him in the eye. He looks back at yours intensely and in that moment, neither of you say or do anything. Then you move your hand down over his skin towards his stomach. There you feel more scars. Raised marks and deep grooves where flesh has been taken from him. You don’t realise that your mouth hangs open and your face tells greatly of horror until you look again at John’s face and he gives you an encouraging smile; a go-ahead to carry on exploring the way you are. You linger for a few more moments over his abdomen as you realise how slim John Seed is and how toned. But then you move your hands up to his shoulders where more scars await your traveling fingers.

You withdraw your hands suddenly and can’t explain why. You’re not sure whether the scars make you sad or scared. Is this man crazy or is he damaged? What lead to these horrific scars? Who marked him with S L O T H?

“It’s alright.” He says. “Most people react like that.”

“I’m sorry. I…don’t…I’ve never…”

Words fail you.

John says nothing more. He seems to be allowing you the time to let it sink in.

Without another word, you turn and leave the room. You don’t see him drop his head behind you, but neither does he know that you are fetching a bowl of warm water, cotton wool, anti-septic and bandages.

When you return with the items, there is surprise in his eyes. You get to work, first by cleaning the cuts around his wrists and washing his hands of the dried blood. His fingers are long and his nails well-manicured. You know you could cut the cable ties, but you would be in so much trouble, and Jess was right. This man’s job is to manipulate and coerce people. You can’t trust him. But you nevertheless continue to clean him up. You clean the cuts to his cheeks and lip and you can see the discomfort when you touch him here. When you get to his eyes, you try to be as gentle as possible. He squirms a little beneath you but tries to put on a brave face.

You take the sunglasses from his head and place them on the nearby metal table. You then try to push the stray strands of thick brown hair back from his face.

“Now you might actually be able to give us the information we need with some dignity tomorrow.”

You turn and leave.


	4. We are all allowed a few bad decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day finally arrives when you turn eighteen. You enjoy your party, have a few too many naughty drinks and in your inebriation, decide to visit John Seed again, where you nearly cross a line.

Callie shakes you awake.

“Maggie! It’s your birthday! Wake up!”

YES! Today is the day! You let her climb onto your bed and jump up and down a bit. Just as you are happy to be moving into adulthood, you feel a pang of envy that she still has all of her youth. You hope that the future is bright for her.

 

You take Callie into the dining hall for breakfast and see your parents sat at a table already. They give you an enormous grin and wave you both over. When you sit, you are sung to by your family members and you enjoy a wonderful breakfast. You are given a beautifully wrapped box and inside is a brightly coloured dress with butterflies embroidered onto various parts. You find a corner to put the dress on and emerge a minute later to the approving gasps of your father and sister. You twirl for them, enjoying a little bit of girly-ness in a world that has no room for gender.

 

Then other people join your table, and there’s a quiet sense of excitement as whispers emanate from the back of the crowd. The people around you have knowing smiles on their faces. First they hand you a little yellow card. “Your pass,” one of them says. “It’ll get you into the more secure areas of the compound…not that there are many of them.” He shrugs and there are a few chuckles.

 

Then, a long package is brought forward and is placed in front of you.

“What’s this?” you ask.

The resistance members exchange happy glances and then your father’s friend Bobby speaks.

“We put some money together to get this for you. Your father has agreed to it.”

You look at your father who nods reassuringly, though about what, you still don’t know.

 

You rip off the wrapping paper and inside lies the most beautiful weapon you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“AR-CL Sniper. It has an extended mag, an ADV-X scope and a silencer.” Bobby said proudly. It’s been painted red and shines as new as the bicycle you got on your fifth birthday. Your eyes must be wide and your mouth open because there are a few laughs around you.

“Come on, lets take it out-“

But just as you are ready to accept this offer, a loud alarm sounds.

 

Everyone reacts so suddenly. Their heads swivel in the direction of the sound and then to each other. There is a frantic noise of scraping chairs and the clicking of weaponry as they quickly ready their guns and make to depart. You’ve heard the alarm before and you know that it means there are Peggies nearby.

 

You glance at your father who appears to be in turmoil. He knows he cannot stop you. You look at him and chuckle.

“In this dress? Are you kidding?”

He gives a weak laugh and a nod and so you leave the dining hall with the unspoken agreement not to engage the Peggies. You leave the sniper on the table.

 

You run through the bunker’s long corridors, up stairs and round corners and finally arrive at a ladder that you have only climbed twice before. This ladder takes you to the northwest watchtower. You recall sneaking up there in two consecutive nights to watch the going’s on outside. It had been wonderful to breathe in the night air but nothing had really happened. This time, you climb the ladder and find two resistance members already up there with snipers at the ready. They are scanning the area and talking to each other in short sentences. You look out with squinted eyes and a hand to your brow to shield your view from the sun’s rays.

 

The radio on the belt of one of the cougars crackles and a voice comes through.

“Armed convoy approaching from the North. Over.”

You look North. There is a small group of 3 cars, each with a gun mounted to the back with an accompanying Peggie.

“Do not engage hostiles. Over.”

You are confused. Why aren’t they firing? But the two cougars, who have their eyes to their rifles, fixed in position, do not react to the message through the radio. Instead, one of them tries to get your attention.

“Pssst,” they hiss. “Get down!”

When you realise they’re talking to you, you duck down and peek through a viewpoint in the wall.

 

“Stand by,” comes the voice.

The tension is high. The cougars barely move except to follow the convoy with their snipers. Then you realise that the cougars will only engage the Peggies if they attack first. You suppose it’s too high a risk to begin a firefight that isn’t absolutely necessary, especially when there are so many families here.

 

The convoy passes without incident.

“Stand down.” is the final command from the radio.

The two resistance members stand up and sigh in relief and you realise that you’ve been holding in a breath too.

 

You return below, unsure what to do with yourself. You decide on a stroll back to the dining hall to retrieve your sniper and when you get there, you see Jess sat at one of the tables. She waves you over with a smile. You join her.

 

“Happy Birthday, Maggie. Eighteen eh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“Nice rifle!” she says in awe. “Did you see the Peggies pass?”

“Yeah.”

“How about we go out and give that baby a try later?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

 

She eyes you. You’re not feeling blown away by your birthday so far. You love your dress. You love your rifle. You’ve never been an ungrateful person, but this birthday has seriously been the worst yet. Stuck here with nothing to do, no friends and no where to go.

 

“Aw c’mon. Tonight will be great! I hear Sharky is getting the sound system sorted in here. Me and you can partAY!” She nudges you with her shoulder and you give a weak smile.

“And there will be alcohol...” she teases in a sing-song-y voice.

You roll your eyes and smile. You’ve had it before, but no ones knows. You can’t lie. You are a little excited to get the opportunity to sneak some vodka into your drink.

 

You both turn when you hear footsteps approaching and see Shelby walking over to you, her blonde hair tied up and bobbing behind her. You realise that her appearance is far more feminine than her demeanour. You like her for it.

 

She sits with you and Jess.

“Congratulations, Maggie. Glad to have you as part of the team.” She gives you a warm smile.

“Thanks,” you reciprocate. “How’re things going with John Seed?”

“Well,” She starts. “...we’ll be speaking to him in a short while about his reasons for defection and will try procure some intel. which we will then attempt to verify. If he lies, he’ll stand on trial for his crimes.” She smiles almost triumphantly, but when you ask what would happen should he be telling the truth, it fades rather quickly.

“To be quite honest with you, that possibility frightens me more. You see, if he is lying, everything stays status quo, we stay right, they stay wrong, John Seed pays and everything returns to normal. If he’s telling the truth, everything we thought we knew is thrown into chaos.”

“What do you mean?” asks Jess as she leans in closer.

“Well if he tells the truth, do we let him walk among us?”

There is a sudden silence from both you and Jess.

“Does he fight for us? Do we let him represent us?”

You and Jess shift uncomfortably in your seats.

“Do we simply release him back into Hope County to be coerced back into Eden’s Gate? What about our families? Is he to be trusted around children? Do we arm him?”

Neither you nor Jess reply. You give each other an uncomfortable look.

“Well, there you go,” Shelby responds.

 

Shelby bids you a good day and both you and Jess stay a little while longer pondering the outcome for John Seed before Jess leaves the dining hall. You return to your room and change out of the dress you received earlier, thinking it best to wear it tonight to the party.

 

You glance over to the rifle that lies on your bed. It shines and winks at you. You’re dying to take it out and use it. No one would stop you. You’re eighteen now. Surely you’d need to get some practice in before using it for real. You wouldn’t want to let the resistance down with your incompetence.

 

As if you need a further excuse to go out, Boomer bounds in to your room, his excited tail wagging playfully. “Walkies, boy?”

He responds with a lively bark and you take your gun, lace up your boots and head to the exit of the bunker.

 

Out in the fresh air, your follow the fence of the compound until you come to the gate which is unmanned. It’s a modest compound, rudimentary and uncomplicated. You suppose that the presence of a patrol on the gate would give away to the Peggies that there was something important here.

 

Boomer runs ahead of you, glad of the freedom and you walk along the road south of the compound. It’s nice to hear the leaves of the trees rustling, to feel the warmth of the sun on your face. There’s barely any wind today and it makes you feel like finding a large, open field to lie in.

 

Remembering the sniper rifle on your back, you turn and head in the direction of some trees where it is likely you’ll find some animals to practice on. This time last year, you would have been horrified at the concept of shooting animals, but since Eden’s Gate came to power, the reaping had meant food resources are scarce and so hunting and gathering are the only effective ways for the resistance to eat.

 

You find somewhere to settle, remove the rifle from your back and put your eye to the scope.

 

Everything is hugely magnified and for a minute, you are extremely disoriented as you struggle to find something distant enough to focus on. Trees whizz past in a blur of colours. Mercifully, you stop moving and everything else becomes still too. _Come on, Maggie_ , you whisper through gritted teeth. You lick your lips and try again. This time, through the trees, you focus on the mountains in the distance, strong, white and dominating – they are the most beautiful thing about Montana. Through your scope you can see distant trees swaying, a car winding its way up a narrow road, birds flying around. But then you see something move into your field of view. It’s brown. It’s large. It’s moving slowly. You fiddle with the scope as silently as you can to bring the moving brown thing into focus. You put your eye back to the scope and a couple of hundred metres ahead of you is a deer.

 

You remark at how calm you feel. The deer is in your sight and your finger has found the trigger of your gun. You are about to take the life of an innocent creature. This animal has done no wrong. In fact, it has done well to survive thus far. You know it would be a shame to end its life for the sake of practice; but you still feel no fear, no guilt, no shame for what you are about to do. What has Eden’s Gate done to Hope County’s children?

 

You ponder no longer and pull back on the trigger. There is an almighty recoil that takes you by surprise and throws you back a little but you scramble up as quickly as you can just in time to see the creature dart away. You missed.

 

Beside you, Boomer huffs in disappointment and rests his head on his front paws.

“Sorry, Pal,” you say and give him a scratch behind the ears.

 

You take him to a nearby stream for him to play around in and you sit on its banks watching him dance around in the water. You wonder when life will return to this. It would be nice to not have to constantly look over your shoulder or carry a weapon every time you venture outdoors.

 

After Boomer has had a wonderful time chasing birds, gnawing on sticks and barking at his reflection, you head back to the compound.


	5. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You sneak out of your party to visit John Seed. In your current state, perhaps it isn't the best idea, but temptation gets the better of you.

 

“Hip hip, Hooray!” come the cheers of those who have gathered in the dining hall to wish you a happy eighteenth birthday. So many smiling faces surround you and for the first time in a while, you feel happy and carefree.

 

Music blares from speakers so loudly that you can feel the beat in your fingertips and your toes.

 

Through the groups of people come your parents, your sister following closely behind. They hug you tightly, wish you happy birthday once again and tell you how proud they are of you.

 

A familiar face joins them from behind. Nick Rye. A face you haven’t seen in so long. He beams at you, still from behind those aviator sunglasses.

“Happy Birthday, Kiddo,”

 

You once had a thing for Nick, back when he was too old for you. You were only sixteen and he was twenty seven. Now you are eighteen, you know the age gap wouldn’t be so much of a problem. But his wife, Kim joins them with their new-born daughter in her arms.

“Hey, Maggie! Happy Birthday!”

Nick puts a protective arm around Kim and nods towards the baby.

“That’s my daughter right there. My baby girl.”

“Congratulations,” you say with a smile.

 

You are genuinely happy for them both. You don’t know Kim all too well but she has always seemed nice when you have met her. You know Nick very well as he was always around town before the Peggies took over. You and him would always have something to talk about and you have a feeling that he still has a soft spot for you albeit in a brother-sister type way.

 

“Sooooo...let’s get this party started!” He rubs his hands together. “Drink?” He looks at you expectantly. You see your father raise his eyebrows and then frown at Nick who throws his arms wide defensively.

“What?”

“It’s against the law, Nick. She’s eighteen! Not twenty-one.”

Nick scoffs in reply.

“There ain’t no fuckin’ laws anymore! C’mon! Let her have some fun.”

Your father looks at you, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll be sensible, daddy, I promise.”

His look softens and you know your father well enough to know that he’s giving you his blessing to let your hair down and have a drink tonight, although you sense he feels like he has been backed into a corner by Nick somewhat.

 

“Alright!” Nick gives you hearty pat on the shoulder. “Let’s me an’ you go get a drink! Kim, honey? No? You don’t want nothin’? Sure? Ok honey, I’ll be back in a lil’ bit.”

Nick steers you over to the drinks table.

 

You watch as he begins mixing things together in a glass. He mutters to himself as he does so.

“A bit o’ this...lil’ bit o’ that...”

He looks around the table for something but then decides to put his finger into the drink and stir it around. You screw your nose up a little, but then he finally hands you the glass.

 

“Now...try that.”

Bringing your nose to the rim of the glass tentatively, you inhale. It’s so strong that you shut your eyes tightly and cough a little.

“Go on...,” Nick spurs you on.

You tilt the glass and let the liquid seep into your mouth bit by bit. It burns! You feel as if your mouth is on fire, but the sensation you get once you swallow it encourages you to finish the glass. You swallow the last drop and then lift the glass into the air triumphantly as Nick claps proudly.

 

The both of you have a couple more drinks and catch up. It’s been so long since you’ve seen each other.

“So lil’ lady, how’s things?”

“It’s so boring here,” you sigh. “There’s nothing to do. There’s no one around my age. You’re lucky to be out there in your own house, with a plane and a runway and all that.”

Nick shrugs.

“Ah it’s nice an’ all but we ain’t safe. Fuckin’ Peggies are always comin’ after us. Tryin’ to take the planes, take Kim and the baby, don’t reckon they care about me much, but I’m just there to protect my family.”

“How is the baby? What’s she like?”

“Aw she’s a precious little angel - the good kind!”

 

You both laugh. After a few more drinks, jokes about the Peggies and talks about the future, the discussion turns a little more adult.

 

“So you got yourself a boyfriend yet?”

“Noooooo,” you slur. You feel yourself get giggly at the mention of a boyfriend, especially with Nick talking about one.

“Well...I did have Connor. We danced at prom and he was so cute.”

“What happened to him?”

“He joined the cult.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeaaahhh...”

“You like the look of anyone in here?”

“Nah, the only guys are too old for me or already taken. Besides, no one’s got time for love or romance in here.”

Nick laughs naughtily.

“Who said I was talking about love?”

You try to focus your dizzying gaze on him and see that his eyes seem just as unfocused as yours feel.

“Sometimes the body wants what the body wants. Just...go find some dude...an’ y’know...do what ya want.”

“What I...want?” You ask.

“Sure. You’re old enough now ain’t ya? You know all about sex don’t ya?”

“Yeah! I know all about sex!”

“Well then go on. Go find someone. Live a little in this fuckin’ horror circus!”

 

There’s a long pause as you both sway a little, taking in what’s been discussed. Then you both burst into fits of laughter, doubled up almost on the floor as you wipe tears away from your eyes. You grab on to his arms for balance and you finally stand straight again.

 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He gives you a pat on the arm and walks unsteadily back to Kim.

 

Your mind betrays you as it wonders to the man floors below you. The last time you saw him, he remained bound to a chair, bruised and bloodied at the hands of your comrades. You feel a stab of guilt and a churning in the pit of your stomach and you realise that you miss him. _Really?_ You want to go down there.

 

So you go.

 

When you arrive outside of his room, you notice a new lock on the door and the window has been boarded up. The corridor is silent but your ears still ring from the noise of the music above. You look closely at this new thing outside of John Seed’s room door. If only it would stop moving around! Just for a few seconds! Eventually you realise that this has now been designated a high-security area which only your swipe card will allow you to access. _Well how ‘bout that!_

 

You delve down the front of your dress where your swipe card hangs from your neck. You pull it up and out and proceed to swipe it into the lock.

 

The door clicks and opens.

 

At first you blink, because you’re pretty sure you’re in an empty room. You blink furiously in an attempt to wash away the blur of intoxication. Blink. Blink. Blink. But no. There’s no one in here. Your heart begins to race. _Fuck_. Has he escaped? _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ You’ll have to go and tell someone. Then you’ll have to try and explain what you were doing down here in the first place. You don’t think _I wanted to see John_ would go down too well. What would father say?

 

You sweep the room with your gaze and you first realise that the chair that John was sat upon is now over by the metal table which still has his trench coat on. Would he leave without that? You’re unsure. On the opposite side of the room is a small basin and a make-shift bed is in one of the corners.

 

Suddenly, you hear a rush of water that startles you and you whip your head around in its direction where you see a door that you had never noticed before. The door is opening and through it comes John Seed.

 

Panic. Dread. Relief. Fear.

 

How can so many feelings take over one body all at once? And some of them so conflicting. You didn’t even know you had room for them in there and the sheer weight of this overwhelming tidal wave of feelings is almost too much. You want to fall to your knees in total relief that he hasn’t fled and you wouldn’t have to have a very awkward conversation, but at the same time, you want to march over and smack him hard around the face, or pound your fists into his chest for scaring you, for not being there when he should have been.

 

But you stand still. Fixed. Frozen. Why? Because you’re still terrified of him. You’ve only seen him standing in the flesh once, and that was when he first arrived at the compound. He was frightening then, but that was when he was restrained by two men and passing by you. After that, he was bound to a chair, defeated and weak. Right now, he is standing before you, unrestrained, apparently back to fair health. He’s so dominating and his presence is sobering. Your vision becomes clearer all of a sudden and it dawns on you where you actually are. Who you’re actually with. Alone.

 

When he sees you, it’s as he’s pulling the door closed behind him. There’s a momentary pause as he brushes his gaze up and down you and then laughs.

“Back again?” He crosses over to the basin from which you stand a mere few feet away. The water from the tap runs over his hands, over the many tattoos that cover them, the scars and the wounds that you tended to last night. His fingers are so long, so slender. You observe how the water must wash into deep grooves before cascading over each tendon on the back of his hands. He must be dexterous. You can tell. But at the moment, his hands flex only slightly and he washes them with the greatest of care.

 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” he grins as he turns the tap off, grabs a nearby towel (which you failed to notice) and gently rubs his hands dry, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankles. When you don’t respond, he chuckles. “You don’t turn eighteen every day.”

You still don’t respond. Your fear is dissipating and you’re not sure why it is or whether it’s a good thing. You just think it’s best to keep your feet where they are for now (which is no easy task in the heels you’re wearing.)

“I remember when I turned eighteen,” he continues, tossing the towel into the basin. “I’d started studying law, was finally free of my adoptive family…went through a whole lot of learning about who I am.”

“I learned about myself a long time ago,” you say monotonously.

“Did you learn about alcohol?” he says with a smirk. “Or is that just tonight?”

You scowl at him. Right now, you feel fine (though you can’t deny you feel the warmth of inebriation returning). _How does he know?_

“Trust me, girl. I know what it looks like. I battled with alcohol myself around your age. I went through it all – addiction to drugs, addiction to sex-”

He sees you react suddenly to this latest revelation and smiles. “Drugs?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Sex?”

You shake your head again.

 

He inhales deeply and folds his arms. “You’ll learn about both, I expect. Maybe not in here-” He looks around at the shabby walls of his room. He’s referring to the compound. “-but if it’s not come to you yet, it probably will. But remember…they are temptations. Giving in to temptation can lead to sin.” He fixes you with a piercing stare.

 

“You still believe that?” you ask. “You still believe those things are sinful? I thought you’d-”

“Defected?” he interrupts. “I have. God knows, I love my brother. I love them both. Dearly. One day, maybe I’ll tell you why…” he trails off. He gives his head a quick shake. “So…what can I do for you, Maggie?”

You shrug your shoulders. It never occurred to you to prepare a reason why you were visiting. “S’my birthday. Can go where I want.” Oh dear. The slur has returned. And even now, the floor feels like its moving beneath you.

“Yes. But why are you here?” John puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Oh how you wish you’d never had that drink. This is what temptation feels like. The temptation to finally be with a man. There. You’ve said it. Even if you haven’t said it out loud, you’ve said it in your head. And here is a man, stood before you. A perfectly reasonable one. Would it be so bad to fool around with him?

 

You walk towards him step-by-step, as if you think each step will make him more receptive to your advances.

“Don’t people usually give gifts to the person celebrating a birthday?”

John can see where this is going.

“I have nothing, I’m afraid.”

“I can think of something you have. Something I’ve wanted for a long time, but no one’s ever given to me.” You twist your hair around your finger. This is how people flirt, isn’t it? You think you’ve seen people do this before, but you’re not sure where. You recognise that it feels alien to you, but you don’t really care. John rolls his eyes and smirks. He knows what you’re after, but he doesn’t move.

“Are you giving into temptation already?” He finds your little episode amusing. Maybe putting your hands all over John isn’t such a wise idea right now. You swivel on your heel and barely manage to stay upright and then you stride over to the metal table where his trench coat is.

“Let me have your coat.” There’s no play in your voice and he picks up on that.

“My coat?” He watches as you pick it up and drape is round your shoulders. It swamps you and it’s heavy. It smells too. It smells like that scent you first caught – the one you didn’t realise you were catching when he first arrived. That gunpowder and mint, though the minty smell has started to fade.

 

“You’re not having my coat,” says John as a matter of fact.

“Oh, come on…” you giggle playfully and run to him and it is the first time you’ve been this close to him. He still hasn’t moved from his position. His back is still against the wall, his legs still crossed at the ankle and his arms still folded. You look into those blue eyes, hooded with heavy lids and dark lashes and faint smile lines around them. The edges of him are blurry and you’re feeling a bit unstable.

“I think someone’s had a bit too much to drink.” He gently take his hands from his pockets and wraps them around your wrists and just as he does, you tumble forward and fall into him, your face colliding with his chest which sobers you back up immediately as you feel a burning pain in your nose. You would have fallen to the floor with your lack of balance if John hadn’t had hold of your arms.

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter, holding your nose, which you’re glad isn’t bleeding.

“This is why.” He responds, putting two firm hands under your arms and guiding you to the mattress in the corner. “This is why alcohol is a temptation we cannot give into.”

 

You flop onto the mattress, your hair falling into your face and right now, the black is so inviting.


	6. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake from your brief sleep in John's cell. You find he got a little too close for comfort whilst you were asleep.  
> When Shelby informs your group that John's intelligence was correct, and that he is to be let out of his cell, it is met with anger and confusion.

 

You shield your eyes against the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling. He sees you momentarily glance at them and immediately cover your eyes.

“I’m afraid the lights don’t dim. They’re either off or they’re on...and I didn’t think you’d like it if they were off.”

 

Slowly you sit up and feel strands of hair tickling your face - your own, thankfully. You rub your face and find your eyes feel puffy and your throat is dry. John seems to notice because he hands you a glass of water. You take sips from it, glad of the fact your hair hanging down both sides of your face serves as a divide, like a pair of curtains offering privacy.

 

“What time is it?” you ask hoarsely. John flicks his wrist to look at his watch. Only now do you realise he’s leaning against the metal table across the room from you.

“About five am. Thought you might want to get back to your room before most people are up and about.”

 

You nod, not sure of what to say in response.

 

“Enjoy your reckless little venture last night?” he says with what you believe to be a teasing tone. You peer through a gap in your sheet of hair and see the corner of his mouth curl.

 

You’re not sure whether to feel apologetic; apologetic for intruding on him and being an absolute idiot. Embarrassed? Definitely embarrassed. Do you feel annoyed? You think you do. You certainly want to shoot John a look right now. But once again you circle back to embarrassment. Who’s the one that should be remorseful here?

 

You conclude eventually that your shame is no fault of his and take another sip from your glass. The cold water refreshes you and wakes you up a little more, bringing the room into sharper focus.

 

“I’d, uh...I’d better be going...,” you mumble as you begin to shuffle your way to the end of the mattress with the blanket tangled between your legs. Had you been tossing in your sleep? Your feet are still firmly secured in your heels which are causing you a great deal of discomfort. _Is he still watching you?_ Without any grace, you plant your soles on the floor and wobble like a newborn foal to a semi-standing position where you subsequently lose your balance for a second and have to brace yourself on the wall next to you.

 

“Don’t you say a word,” you warn with a finger.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” he says, shrugging...and smirking. _Yes, you can see him smirking._

 

He claims he isn’t laughing at you, but you can see his fucking shoulders shaking out of the corner of your eye as you walk tentatively towards the door...but he doesn’t say a word.

 

When your hand closes around the door handle and you tug, it doesn’t open. Then you remember the key card around your neck. You reach down the front of your dress...but all you feel is your bare skin. No key card. You whip your head around in the direction of _him_. And there he is. There _it_ is. Dangling from his hand is the key card.

 

“Forgetting something?” He smiles. Words fail you as you begin patting yourself down, because he cannot possibly be holding that key card right now.

 

“Did you...?!” Your mouth hangs open. You’re still searching down the front of your dress, because that is _not_ your key card that he is holding.

 

“Ah nothing that sinister,” he waves nonchalantly, as if casually swatting a fly away. “Just thought I’d stop you from choking yourself, that’s all.”

You feel violated. Only you know where you kept that key card. John Seed fucking _touched_ you.

“Though it was fairly amusing for a while...,” he trails off with a look in his eyes.

 

Your mouth opens and closes for a few seconds as you try to comprehend what he’s saying. During your stupor, he strides over to the door, swipes the key card and opens the door for you.

 

“I thought you said you were leaving.”

Still dumbfounded, you nod. He holds the key card out to you, which you take and you finally step through the door.

“Until next time,” he says in a mockingly gracious tone.

 

You walk a few paces away and look back to see him still watching you from the door frame, and you don’t even acknowledge the fact that he is now free to walk about the compound - that he has access to all of the bunker; but it’s alright, because without you seeing, he turns back into his room and closes the door behind him.

 

You take a slow, unsteady stroll back to your room, where you collapse onto your bed, oblivious to everything around you.

 

_John Seed touched you._

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, everybody. Thank you for coming,” begins Shelby.

 

This is your first time sitting in on a meeting that you’ve actually been invited to. Previously, you’ve eavesdropped, hid behind corners and caught snippets of conversation that you weren't privy to. This time though is different. You have a right to be here. As a woman...as a serving member of the resistance, you are meant to be here, listening to this announcement.

 

“I thought it necessary to inform you that the intelligence we received from John Seed checked out. We were able to liberate one of Eden’s Gate’s outposts in Holland Valley and now have another strong foothold from which we can plan further attacks.”

 

Around the room you see a few shrugs. Many of the men have their arms folded tightly against their chests. They’re defensive. They’re still scared. Your father is holding your mother’s hand. He’s standing across the room from you. No one has spoken out yet.

 

“In light of this, we have agreed in good faith to allow John Seed to leave his cell-“

 

Roars of disapproval.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

“You can’t be serious!”

“You wait ‘till I get my hands on him-“

 

You watch Shelby hang her head. She was expecting this.

 

“Please, listen to me,” she shouts above the noise. “This is non-negotiable for the time being. John will be given access to all parts of the facility, except the armoury, but he will be escorted by a security detail to ensure both your safety...and his.”

 

You wince at the protests that Shelby endures now. People around you are going crazy. They scream at Shelby, claiming he has no right to security, that he has no right to be protected. All Shelby can do is have the decency to look apologetic.

 

“John defected, and when he did so, he essentially became a refugee. He sought refuge from Eden’s Gate. We cannot deny him the same safety and security that we give the rest of you. However, I recognise that this is an exceptional circumstance, hence the security detail.”

 

Several people angrily turn and leave the room and you hear Shelby sigh. She adopts a gentler tone.

 

“I thank everyone who is able to support me in this matter, and remind you all that John Seed is under our protection until Eden’s Gate succumbs to our resistance.”

 

She steps down and swiftly exits the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Later on in the dining hall, you sit with your family and enjoy your meal. For the first time, the four of you speak about John Seed.

 

“I’m not liking this one bit,” your father starts. His eyes dart around the room, as if John Seed is likely to just waltz in, guns in hand, armed to the teeth. “Shelby’s a clever woman. What’s she thinking, letting a man like that walk around here freely?”

“What did he do?” Callie asks. _Bless her innocence._

“He’s one of the reasons we’re all down here, Callie.”

You think you hear a wobble in your father’s voice. He’s always been a fairly timid man, never willingly engaging in conflict unless absolutely necessary, but always able to command respect from his family.

“Why? What’s he done?” Callie asks again.

“I’ll tell you later,” you say quietly.

“You most certainly will not!” comes your mother’s shrill voice. You roll your eyes.

“She’s not a baby,” you complain.

“I don’t care,” she snaps. “She’s _my_ baby.”

 

You heave a sigh and tuck in to your meal before a hand on your shoulder startles you.

“Shelby...,” your father nods as courteously as he is able to.

“Evening all. I just wanted a quick word with Maggie.” She tightens her hand on your shoulder and then sits next to you.

You glance at your father, who looks very nervous.

“Maggie, now that you are able to aid the resistance, we need to call upon you to help us.”

No one in your family says anything. Your mother and father look dismayed. Callie looks between you and Shelby, wide-eyed and intrigued. You can’t help but admit feeling your stomach do a nose-dive. You nod for Shelby to continue.

“We’d like you to liaise with some resistance members who are currently residing at that outpost we’ve just taken from the Peggies. We need more outposts in Holland Valley. We’ll hopefully get some more intel. from John, which we will pass to you and your team.”

 

You are utterly gobsmacked. You’ve been given a mission. You have a purpose! This resistance needs you!

“I...I won’t let you down.”

“I know,” smiles Shelby. “Enjoy your meal. Sorry to have disturbed you.”

She departs with an encouraging smile and a gentle squeeze on your arm and your stomach is now doing somersaults.

 

You look to Callie, who beams back at you. Then you look to your parents, whose faces are white. You think all of the colour has been drained from their skin. They’re in shock. They’re terrified of what will happen to you. You reach out to take their hands across the table and grip them firmly.

“I’m not stupid, guys. I’ll be alright-“

But just when you think you could make them feel better, the very last thing that could walks into the dining hall.

 

Conversations suddenly become louder and chairs scrape against the metal floor. You see heads swivel round and expressions of fury and fear. The worst thing, though, is the terror in your parents’ eyes. They are wide and fixed and momentarily become glazed over as they fixate on something over your shoulder.

 

You, like many others around you, turn to see what’s going on behind and see two armed men of the resistance leading John Seed to a table in the corner. They leave him, presumably to fetch him some food and tell him to stay. He sweeps his gaze over the dining hall, as if assessing the threat in the room, and he is right to do so. As soon as he sits, several people stand and head in his direction. Some of them crack their knuckles. _How thuggish._

 

A deathly hush falls over the hall. No one is eating. No one is talking. You fear no one is breathing. The air is still yet static and the tension could be cut with a knife.

Three men stand over John Seed. He stands to accept his inevitable fate.

 

The first punch splits his lip again and his head flies back. There are a few gasps around the room. When John composes himself, he says not a word, but looks the man in the eye and sneers. His guardians haven’t yet noticed that he’s being assaulted, but no one cares. The second man grabs John’s shoulders, knees him in the groin and slams his head into the table. At this point, there is a discernible crack and several screams. Your father immediately stands and grabs your mother and Callie by the hand. Other people are following suit. There is a movement of several people towards the doors.

“Maggie!” Your father hisses at you to follow. You half-heartedly move in the same direction but look back at the two armed men who are supposed to be escorting and protecting John. You can see them. They have the food in their hands. They are watching. They are _watching_. You stop.

John holds his face and you see blood running over his hands. _Sit down, you idiot!_ But John does not sit down. He turns his head and spits blood on the floor, before turning to the second man.

“Faith hits harder.”

**_WHACK!_ **

All three men grab some part of John and there is an almighty scramble for the exit now as the two guardians decide that enough is enough and run over to intervene.

 

A firm hand grabs your arm and pulls you out; pulls and grabs so hard that you’re sure it’ll leave bruises.

 

You are marched back to your room. Father is terrified and furious. He throws you in with Callie and slams the door behind him.

 

“You will _not_ be going to that outpost! Not if I have anything to do with it! You will _stay_. You and your sister will _stay_. Here. In this room. Do you hear me?!”

 


	7. I Know What I Want For My Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are sent on your first mission: to establish a base at US Auto, a recently liberated outpost. John helps you to begin planning an assault on a nearby outpost.

 

Fuck him. _Fuck them all!_

 

You pull your boots on over your jeans, grab your jacket and pick up your rifle. You head straight to the control room where you find Shelby, who gives you the location of the outpost on your map, a radio and the key to a car. _Thank goodness for those lessons._

 

You’re outraged at your father’s behaviour. Who does he think he is? How does he hope to protect you when he shelters you from the reality of life. This is what the world is now. He needs to fucking get used to it.

 

Shelby wishes you good luck with a smile but before you leave, you turn in the door frame.

“Shelby?”

She looks up from her paperwork.

“Yeah?”

“Those two men yesterday…those with John Seed-”

“Maggie, they got one free pass. That was it.”

You nod and head out.

 

The car rumbles into life and you grip the steering wheel. It’s early in the morning. The sky is bright and the air is crisp and you’re so grateful of the opportunity to leave this damn compound. It had begun to get too claustrophobic. You figured you’d best leave before your father realised what you were planning to do.

 

You head towards the compound and turn on the radio. From it plays an unfamiliar tune. It’s upbeat. The people singing are happy. They’re strong. _Fearless_.

 

_Oh Lord, this earth was made for us. Oh Lord, this sinful life just ain’t enough._

_When I see your face,_

_I know I must protect my place_

_I’ll keep my rifle by my side._

 

You’re humming along before you realise what the lyrics are saying. _This sinful life just ain’t enough…_

You don’t think there’s enough sin in your life. You keep the station on.

 

You watch the hills roll slowly past and admire the beautiful countryside of Montana from your seat in the car, tapping your fingers on the wheel in time to the music.

 

It’s a while before you realise what it is you can see. Up ahead, in the middle of the road, there is a mayonnaise-coloured truck. That’s not the unusual thing. It’s perfectly normal to see trucks on the road, mayonnaise-coloured or otherwise. What _is_ unusual is that the truck is stationary and parked _across_ the road. You pull over and squint. You daren’t use your sniper. On the back of the truck, you see a mounted gun like those you saw in the convoy that passed the compound. Next to the gun is a man in scruffy mayonnaise-coloured clothes with the Eden’s Gate symbol on the front.

 

Despite the temptation to get out of the car and take him out with your sniper, you’re more clever than that. You put the car into reverse and turn back to find an alternative route to the outpost.

 

The radio music takes a slower pace and you find yourself swaying to a more intense message.

_Oh Lord, the great collapse won’t be our end_

_When the world falls into the flames,_

_We will rise again._

You don’t really understand it. You don’t know what the collapse is. You just like the music.

 

You pull into US Auto, the outpost that the resistance recently liberated and your breath catches in your throat when you notice the bodies strewn around on the ground. Bodies with faces. Actual individual faces. These are people. They were somebodies. They had names and families, whether they were Peggies or resistance. That one over there looks particularly like a ‘Paul’ and this one just outside your car looks like she might have been called ‘Jennifer’ and like fishing on the weekend.

 

A man in a chequered shirt with a shotgun in his hand strides over to you as you leave your car. He holds out his hand.

“I’m Jake. You must be Maggie.”

You shake his hand and he leads you into the building. That was a very quick introduction.

“Thanks for comin’. The more we have here, the better. Now, our first task is to establish this place as another base for us. It needs to be safe and functional. People need to sleep here, eat here, plan attacks here and retreat here if need be.”

You listen and nod fervently.

“First, I want the bodies movin’. If it’s one of ours, bring ‘em into the building and we’ll give ‘em a proper funeral. Any Peggies, throw ‘em on the fire.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

You cannot quite believe the words that have just come out of this man’s mouth. Did he just say…throw them… _on the fire?!_

“Oh, erm…or in the river if you’d prefer.”

 

When he sees you not moving with your mouth hanging open, he doesn’t push the topic. It might also have something to do with the look of utter abhorrence on your face.

“Just get rid of ‘em.”

 

 

* * *

 

Some time in the afternoon, when the sun is high and the back-breaking work of moving bodies starts to get to you, Shelby’s voice comes across the radio.

“Maggie? Maggie, you there? Over.”

You dust off your hands and sit down on the ground, glad of the excuse to rest. Grabbing the radio from your belt, you press down on the button.

“Yep. I’m here. Uh…over.”

“Maggie, I have your father here who is very worried about you. He wants to know you’re alright. _No, Mr Adams, I’m not letting you speak to her. Why? Because she’s grown up now!”_

“Tell my father that I’m fine. He doesn’t need to worry.”

“ _There you go, Mr Adams. She’s fine._ Thank you, Maggie.”

You roll your eyes. Of course your father would be checking up on you.

“How are you getting on there, Maggie?”

“Just clearing out the casualties. Jake wants this place up and running ASAP.”

“Well good. He’s right. We need it. But Maggie, don’t let Jake bully you. You’re young but you’re part of the team now, one way or another.”

You smile. So far, you haven’t disagreed with a single decision Shelby has made.

“Maggie, I need to give you a heads-up. Jake’s informed me that he’s ready to begin drawing up plans to take another outpost. He’s going to need the inside information of John Seed to do this, so we’re going to be sending him over there to you. To be honest, this couldn’t have come at a better time. Things are beginning to get…hostile over here…”   
  
“Sure,” you reply. “Just let me know when to expect him.”

 

 

You and Jake are deciding on the best place to make a command centre in the outpost when the car pulls in. There’s a whistle and Jake looks through the window.

“He’s here.”

 

You don’t go down to meet him at the car. Instead, you watch from the place you suggested would make an excellent command centre. As expected, two armed men (different from those in the dining hall) get out of the front of the car and open one of the back doors, from which John Seed emerges looking worse for wear. You watch as Jake dismisses the armed men and puts a strong arm on John’s shoulders, leading him into the building, where you suspect he will lead him up the stairs to where you are now.

 

You watch the door and indeed you’re right, because here comes John, his battered face emerging from the dark of the stairs and into the stark light of the room. He frowns on his way up the stairs until he sees you at the top.

“Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise,” he chortles. Jake releases him and looks between you both.

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?”

“Not well,” you reply curtly.

“Oh come, now,” he says to you before turning to Jake. “She’s telling lies. Maggie here knows some of my deepest, darkest secrets.” His mouth curls into that familiar smirk that makes you weak in places.

“Right…” Jake doesn’t quite know how to handle John and so gives up on any kind of small talk.  


“We’re pretty certain that there’s an outpost around about here…” Jake points at a place on the map and both you and John lean over a shoulder to see where he is referring to.

“That’s Sunrise Farm,” John starts. “That’s one of my favourite outposts. Do you have to take that one?”

Jake doesn’t take kindly to his jokes. He takes his shotgun and shoves the stock into John’s stomach. John doubles over, his arms wrapped around his middle, gasping for breath, but somehow, still laughing.

“You guys just don’t get it, do you?”

“You’re not the one s’posed to be teaching lessons ‘round ‘ere,” Jake threatens as he raises his hand.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” You rush to stand in the middle of Jake and John. “Enough! This is getting us nowhere!”

 

For the next hour or so, as the sun begins to set, the three of you draw up plans for taking over the outpost.

“So, we’ll attack from the South-”

“No you won’t,” John interjects.

“Excuse me? I’m the one leading this, Peggie.”

“Well go ahead if you want to be spotted by the two hidden snipers and for air support to be called. You’ll be dead in under forty-five seconds.”

 

John has drawn a rudimentary layout of Sunrise Farm and the three of you are discussing strategies. Jake stands in a wide-legged stance, arms folded, much like the jocks you knew at your high-school. _Jake the jerk_ , you can’t help thinking. He’s making this up as he goes along. He refuses to acknowledge John’s superior knowledge in this case. John, who is the very opposite of Jake, is animated, low down to the table, drawing circles with his fingers, tracing paths and generally making a whole show of this. You watch these two go at it for some time.

“Well then we’ll go in from the West-”

“No, no, no…” John shakes his head and screws his eyes up tightly (which must be painful, given the cuts and bruises to his face). “You’ll be coming from downhill. They’ll have the high ground.”

“What do you think, John?” you ask. Jake looks at you, thunderstruck. Are you seriously asking for John’s Seed’s opinion? Yes. Yes you are.

“We approach from the North East. There’s a steep embankment there with plenty of cover. We should be in a good position to take out the two alarms from long-range and then neutralise as many as we can from the same position. There may be a few remaining that we will have to take-down at closer range.”

“Right, so we’re going to need more people,” Jake says.

“No. The three of us will do.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? ‘Us’? You think _you’re_ coming?” Jake throws his head back and a boom of laughter erupts from him.”

“Jake,” you interrupt. “We need him.”

“Alright.” Jake holds his hands up in defeat, a disbelieving laugh stuttering from his throat. “Bring the bastard. But I want backup.”

“I’ve just told you,” John slams a flat hand on the table. “More than three of us could risk-”

“NO!” Jake spins on his heel and points a large finger in John’s face. John stands up to meet it. “I will _not_ allow you to make this call.” With that, Jake turns his back and leaves the room.

 

“Uh…I think we’d best go downstairs. I think your guardians are there.”

“Suit yourself.” John shrugs and puts his hands in his jeans pockets as he follows you down the stairs. For a few seconds there is a silence only penetrated by your footsteps on the wooden stairs.

“Thanks for your help,” you say. “If you want, I could have a look at that cut lip for you.” It’s the least you could offer. So far, he has been forthcoming with his information.

“Where were you yesterday when I was choking on my own blood, clutching my balls and praying for mercy?”

Upon seeing the look of utter remorse on your face, he chuckles. “It’s ok. Like I’ve said, I’ve had worse. But my lip is rather sore…so…if you have the time…y’know…” he smiles.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, the two armed men take John from you and sit him in a chair. You go to another room for privacy and you radio Shelby. It takes a while for her to respond.

 

“Maggie, how are the plans coming along?”

“They’re coming along well, although, John and Jake disagree about how many men we should take in.”

“Why? What’re they saying?”

“John thinks we should just take the three of us. Jake believes we should have more.”

“Hmmm…,” Shelby thinks for a few seconds. “Well, I have to say I agree with Jake there, Maggie. We still don’t know if John is true in his defection. If there are only two of you there with him, he could easily overthrow you. No. I’m not willing to risk it. I’ll send additional support when we have the final strategy in place.”

“Shelby? Do you need me home this evening? Or am I to stay here?”

“I need you to stay there tonight, Maggie. If I brought you home, I’d have to bring everyone else back too, and we need that outpost continuously manned.”

 

You agree to what she’s asking of you and go to say goodbye when she stops you. “I just thought I’d let you know, Maggie – your father has been asking after you all day.” Anger pools low in your belly.

“Can you tell him that I’ve had a really good day and that I’m enjoying my freedom? Thanks Shelby.”

 

You storm back into the room where John and the two armed men are sitting. John is rolling up his sleeves but stands up when he sees you enter the room so flustered. You pace the room and it doesn’t escape John’s notice that your hands are balled into fists. He knows better than to try to stop you, but instead he watches you carefully.

 

Eventually, you summon the strength to march over to John Seed and you pant heavily. Your head is all over the place but he doesn’t push you. He watches you gain your breath back with exceptional patience, almost as if you are entertaining to him.

“John…,” you breathe.

“Yes?” he smiles, waiting on your answer. You breathe some more, screwing your face up, tightening your fists.

“John…,” you repeat.

“Yes?” he says again, longer this time, with an even larger smile.

“I…I know what I want for my birthday.”

He blinks, licks his lips and puts his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Go on…?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

 

After a momentary pause during which you calm down by about seventy-five percent and John blinks a little more, he smiles and he responds.

“Consider it done.”

 

The five of you sleep in the same room that night - you, Jake, John and his two guards on make-shift beds which are basically piles of blankets and sleeping bags. Looking around, you see that Jake sleeps on his front and grunts. One of the guards is taking a shift to watch the door and so sits in a chair a few feet from you all. The other guard lies on his side and falls asleep silently. You look over to John, who lies on his back staring at the ceiling. The moonlight coming in from the windows twinkles in his eyes. You don’t see him fall sleep. You succumb to your fatigue with the thought that tomorrow, the first thing on your list is to source some proper beds.


	8. Mark Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You visit John to receive your birthday present: a tattoo.   
> Your feelings for John escalate and you step over a boundary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where things begin to happen.  
> I cannot say this is explicit or smut, but in order to fully enjoy what's going to happen next, you may want to read this first.

 

The next morning, you find Jake in the command room leaning over reams of paper, maps, layouts and notes. His radio lies on top of the documents and he is having a strained conversation with Shelby through it.

“Am I telling you, or are you telling me?” he huffs.

“You’re in command of that outpost, Jake. The call lies with you.”

Jake inhales sharply and runs his fingers through his hair, hinting at the short fuse within. You glance over to John, who is leaning against a wall, alternating between inspecting his fingernails and folding his arms with an amused smile. He sees you walk in and rolls his eyes in the direction of Jake.

“I’ll let you know, Shelby.”

 

Jake composes himself with a deep breath and turns his attention to you. Perhaps this is the first thing that you disagree with Shelby over: her appointment of Jake to oversee the outpost. His temperament is too aggressive. He’s short tempered and impulsive and much too stubborn to be an effective leader.

 

“So what do we do?” He turns to you both, his hands planted on his hips.

“Well, there’s really no point doing anything today,” John offers by way of a response. “It’s changeover day. The guards there will be heading back to the bunker and they’ll be replaced with a new team. It’s always swarming with people, they’ll be on high alert. You’re best off leaving it for today and attacking tomorrow.”

 

Jake radios Shelby back to update her of the plan and you head downstairs to busy yourself with odd jobs but before long, Jake follows you down the stairs.

“Maggie, we’re having a changeover too. Shelby’s sending another unit over here now. When they arrive, you’ll escort John back to the compound.”

 

* * *

 

You are out front to meet the car when it arrives. Five people jump dynamically from the car, adjust their hats and weapons before pacing tenaciously towards Jake. Nods are given, handshakes exchanged and then you and John are led to a different car, where the two armed guardians seat you and John in the back whilst they sit in the front.

“Don’t worry, Missy. He’s unarmed…he can’t hurt you.”

You look to John sitting next to you, who gives you a weak smile.

“But we are going to have to ask that he lies down on the journey back to the compound. If he’s seen, we’re done for.”

 

John rolls his eyes and shuffles in his seat. He leans his head away from you and swings his feet up to rest them on your lap which gives you the opportunity to admire his boots. You can tell that they’ve been around for years; the kind of shoes that serve you so well you can’t bear to part with them. But they’re in good condition nonetheless.

 

You suspend your arms above his legs and you’re not quite sure where to rest them when the car suddenly jerks forwards and you grab onto John’s ankles for steadiness. When you realise what you’re doing, you release your hands from him faster than you thought yourself capable of. He turns his head to look over his shoulder at you and he laughs.

“S’alright, girl. It’s not a sin to touch a man’s ankles.” He laughs again at his little witticism and turns his head back to staring at the back of the driver’s seat. One of the guardians in the front actually laughs with him.

 

* * *

 

 

It feels odd being back, having been on the other side; having been to some people’s hell and back. Spending a night in the somewhat awkward company of John Seed in a new outpost is sure to be the hot topic around the compound, though you feel sure that word has not reached your father that you spent the night with him. If he’d had any idea...

 

Your debrief with Shelby is surprising. She asks you to accompany Jake and his team on the mission tomorrow to secure Sunrise Farm. This will be your first time engaging with the Peggies and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t made the pit of your stomach twist in to knots. You can’t quite explain the feeling. Is it your sheer lack of experience? Are you afraid of the Peggies? You know you should be. What was it that Bobby said to you that time?

 

_“The Peggies would eat you alive and then spit you out because they don’t like the taste of freedom.”_

 

Somehow you don’t think Bobby was talking about a cult of cannibals with sophisticated palates, and the thought sends a shiver down your spine.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner tonight was bland. Bland and boring. You sat and moved every beige coloured element of questionable consistency around on your plate, dying to sink your teeth into steak and feel the juices tickle your taste buds. The water, tepid and stale, had you dreaming of fresh pomegranate juice and thick, creamy milkshakes.

Topic of conversation was the usual time-filler-happy-families crap that father had been peddling since arriving at this damn compound. His voice droned until all you could hear were his muffled cadences and a nod was the best response you could give.

 

All talk of compounds was forbidden. No one was allowed to discuss John Seed.

 

It was at this point that you had begun to drift off in a daydream back to the car journey in the sun, and those words that resonated with you then, and that resonate with you still now...

 

_“This sinful life just ain’t enough._ ”

 

The words are still swimming around in your head as you make the walk now beginning to ingrain itself into your memory.

 

Evening shift is starting. Those who have been working and watching today are returning to their beds, including your family. Your bedroom feels like a prison imposed upon you, designed to restrain you, keep you innocent and child-like. Returning there and sleeping opposite your sister, pretending that you hadn’t been an adult today, that you haven’t been entrusted to liberate the next outpost feels sickeningly false.

 

When you are a few feet away from his door, it dawns upon you that John has the freedom to walk about the compound and might not actually be in his room and you wonder what you’ll do if he isn’t. Go and look for him? Sit and wait? Go back to that fucking prison cell? You wonder who has more freedom around here nowadays, you or John Seed.

 

But he’s not walking around the compound. He’s in his room. And he raises his eyebrows when you come in, gently placing whatever he was holding in his hands back on the metal table so he can turn and lean against it, palms hugging the edge, exposing long, marked fingers and strong forearms.

 

“You came,” he starts.

 

You scan the room and see books and other small items that weren’t there before. His coat is hung on a stand.

 

“Are you ready?” He still leans against the table.

“For what?”

“Your Birthday present.” His face twists into a half-smile as he reaches behind him and pulls a small device, which he holds like a pen. "I requested it be brought to me. Shelby was happy to comply."

You see a needle and instinctively take a step backwards.

“Oh right, uh...sure,”

“Are you frightened?”

“No!”

 

Even you admit to yourself that your tone was hardly convincing, and to show your commitment, you wrestle with your jacket and toss it across the room.

 

John seems overcome with joy and he pulls the metal table away from the wall, dragging it across the floor into the middle of the room where he brushes his hands across the surface.

 

He gestures for you to lie upon the table. Your chest undulates with little staccato breaths but you clench your fists and propel yourself towards the table. You sit on the edge and swing your legs up as John makes preparations. You hear a buzzing sound coming from his hands and you clench every muscle in your body, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

 

He returns to you.

“So, what is it that you want?”

_Shit!_ You haven’t even thought about it! You feel a fool for having requested this kind of gift without having even thought about what you’d want.

“I...um...maybe...,” you falter. You try and look as though you’re not stalling for time, but he’s on to you.

“You haven’t decided, have you,” he laughs. You give him a weak smile as an apology but he shrugs his shoulders in acceptance and runs his eyes up and down your body, as if surveying you.

 

“I know what you need-“ he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Can you lift your shirt a little?”

“I’m sorry...what?” You blink up at him.

“Your shirt. Lift it.”

 

You do as he says and take the bottom of your shirt in your hands and pull it up a little, exposing your abdomen. You thought you’d feel embarrassed. Exposed. Vulnerable. But actually, you feel empowered. You’ve never been in such a state of undress in front of a man and there’s a rush of adrenaline flooding your stomach right now. What comforts you more is that John reacts not a bit as you bare yourself. Instead, he continues to brush his gaze over you, frowning ever so slightly in concentration, until he reaches one long finger into the waistband of your jeans.

 

_Woah!_

‘Stop!’ you shout, grabbing for his wrist before he can venture any further. He looks up into your eyes and you understand, somehow, that he was never going to hurt you. You can’t explain it, but he doesn’t fight against your grasp. Your fingernails are digging into his skin and your grip pulls the hair on his forearm taut. He waits, knowing you’ll let him continue. There’s no point delaying the inevitable, and you lie back down, releasing his arm from your grip and resting your head against the cold metal of the table.

 

His fingers gently pull on the waistband of your jeans until they have unveiled your hips, dangerously close to territory you deem too private...though the thought of his fingers glancing over it makes your stomach do another somersault.

 

John seems happy. His eyes fix on a spot on your hips and his gaze does not falter.

 

“Are you going to give me one like yours?” you ask, all too aware of the note of fear in your voice.

“Well that depends,” he replies.

“Depends on what?”

“Have you sinned, girl?”

“I...erm...I’ve disobeyed my father. He’s forbidden me to see you.”

 

A naughty little smile twists John’s lips.

“Rebellion is not a sin, my dear.”

 

He pulls a pen from his pocket and removes the lid with his teeth. He begins to make marks on you, the pen lid still firmly held between perfect pearly whites and you realise you’re staring! You’re fixated on the pen lid. Or is it his mouth?

 

The pen tickles you. He’s drawing on your left hip bone - not a place you’d have thought to get a tattoo.

 

“Honey, wiy you cake dis hen yid ou of my mouh pease,” he manages to garble and you reach for the lid. When you take it, one of your fingers brushes his lips. They’re surprisingly soft, and now in addition to the fire building in your belly, you feel a slickness akin only to that of which you feel once a month. But you know it’s not your time.

 

_He_ has no idea.

 

“So what kind of things have you done, John? Why does everyone in here hate you?”

 

John doesn’t take his eye from your hip but gives a small laugh.

“I’ve done many terrible things,” he says as he continues to draw on you. “and I guess people in here hate me because I did those things to _them_. Or their families.”

“You killed people?”

“I’ve killed a few.”

“Do Eden’s Gate kidnap people?”

John pauses for a moment and looks absently across the room, his pen hovering above your hip.

“I guess you would see it that way, yes.”

He continues making gentle swipes with his pen.

“What about The Father?” You ask earnestly, but this makes John stop his work to look at you in surprise. “What’s he like?” you continue.

“You called him the father...” You can’t tell whether John is appalled, offended, impressed or delighted as he says this.

“That’s what he’s called, right? Your brother?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

 

John pops the lid back onto the pen and reaches for the tattoo gun.

 

“Are you ready for this?” With a flick of his finger, the gun buzzes into life. You nod tenaciously and have to bite down on your lip to conceal a scream as the needle hits your skin.

As if to call upon your inner warrior, John says “only the bravest of rebels get a tattoo here.”

 

But you don’t feel like a rebel or a warrior. In fact, you’re wishing the table would engulf you and shield you from this pain. You try not to wriggle, but you press yourself down into the metal as if somehow, the needle won’t follow. You screw your eyes up tight and bring your arm to your face, tempted to bite down on your flesh, to draw blood as a distraction.

 

“Here-“ John says as he puts down the tattoo gun. “Lie on your side for me...”

You whimper. He’s started and he has to finish so you roll over onto your side, bringing your left hip up and closer to John.

“If you scream, they’ll know you’re down here,” he says and you nod to show your understanding.

 

The needle attacks your skin once more and you moan through pursed lips and fumble around blindly for something to grab. Your hands slip from the edges of the table and reach up to John’s shirt, of which you take a fist full. Your body writhes and John has to place a firm hand over your waist to still you.

 

For now, you accept the pain and focus entirely on the smell of him. It makes sense to dull down your other senses and focus on another. He doesn’t care that you’re pulling relentlessly on his shirt or that your head is curling downwards to nuzzle into his leg. In fact, he seems not to have noticed. The familiar smell of mint and gunpowder you inhale sends you almost giddy with lust but it’s not a feeling you recognise. You have this inexplicable temptation to wrap your legs around him and send your hands searching up his shirt. Your mother always told you that legs stay closed until after marriage, but how are you supposed to deal with this torment?

 

John is becoming gentler, but your feelings have not abated. Your hand has left his shirt and your arm is now wrapped around the inside of his leg where it is firm and warm.

 

**_To hell with it._ **

 

You cannot stop yourself placing a hand over the front of his jeans and pressing firmly against them. Beneath the taut denim fabric, there’s a softness you know very little about save for the classes you had in school.

There’s a momentary pause as John stills and the buzzing stops.

You continue palming John through his jeans, exploring what he has to offer, pushing the boundaries of this relationship.

The buzzing resumes.

 

“Do you know what you’re doin’?”

 

You don’t answer.

 

You rub the front of his jeans, which are tight and snug around his waist. Now as you cup him more firmly with one hand, your other explores round the back of him, squeezing the firm ass you find there and then suddenly, you’re obsessed with him.

A maddening feeling overtakes you as you squeeze the inside of John’s thigh, tempted to bite down on him as you breathe heavily into his leg.

 

Just as John makes a particularly painful mark upon you, you cry out and you feel an unmistakable twitch beneath his jeans.

“Maggie-“ you hear John breathe somewhere above.

He hasn’t stopped doing his work and the pain hasn’t abated either. You cry out in pain again and there’s another twitch.

 

You groan some more until you feel a firmness through his jeans. What was soft has now begun to feel solid, and there’s resistance against your palm. You notice the front of his jeans begin to distort.

He laughs. _He’s actually laughing!_ It’s not a maniacal laugh. It’s not a giggle or a cackle or a bray. It’s a soft amused chuckle. He’s entertained by you. You amuse him.

 

“Maggie, I think it’s time-“

“OOOWWWW!” You cry out again in genuine agony as John presses the gun to you once more and now you can feel his form through his jeans. Warmth radiates from his crotch. You paw at the denim and can feel distinct shape which both intrigues and frightens you.

 

“Done.”

 

The buzzing stops. And so does your frenzy.

 

As if waking from a dream, you sit up with the room spinning slightly, only this time, you know you’ve had nothing to drink. The pain had affected you more than you thought it would have.

 

John takes a step back from the table, plants his hands on his hips and hangs his head.

 

You can’t take your eyes off the swell in his jeans, how it noticeably extends to one side and how it pushes the denim forwards. Never have you seen anything like it for real. Have men been hiding this all along? Does it actually happen the way they tell you it does? Here is your first experience of an erection, and from none other than the mighty Baptist himself, John Seed.

 

John removes one hand from his hip to wave a telling finger at you. “What is perhaps the most enjoyable sin of all, can lead a person to their undoing.”

He returns his hand to his hip and heaves a sigh.

 

For a few moments there is silence. John breathes. You stare.

 

When John lifts his head again to regard you, he is still hard, but he smiles and walks towards you as if everything is back to normal. He pretends that you aren’t still staring at his crotch. Your legs dangle from the edge of the table and you have completely forgotten about the tattoo.

“What…,” you stutter. “What if…I want to…be undone?” 

John places his hands either side of your legs, clasping the table and trapping you in.

“I am no longer fit to judge the sins of others.” His face is rather close to yours, effectively ensuring that you look into his eyes rather than at appendages of which you know more than you should.

“Find a nice guy to undo you.”

 

He smiles and claps his hands together in triumph. “OK!”

 

You jump.

 

“Let’s have a look at that tattoo!”

 

You look down at your hip where the skin surrounding where he has been working is red raw. But in the middle of that sprawling red patch is an intricate and detailed butterfly with vivid red colouring.

 

“The butterfly symbolises transformation. You’re going to change people’s minds one day.”

 

You look at John to see he is serious. He nods at you. He believes what he is saying.

 

“The red is for passion.”

“And why is it on my hip?” you ask.

 

John chuckles. “Remember, only the bravest rebels…”

 


	9. Sunrise Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resistance set out to take back Sunrise Farm with the help of John Seed. Jake doesn't listen to John's advice and the operation doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not yet full-on 'explicit', but it's getting there ;)

 

You know how dangerous it could get today. You’ve seen how people return after engaging with Eden’s Gate. You’ve seen the scars that people bear even today and you will never forget the wounds that are seared into your memory; deep gashes to the arm and chest, burned faces and raw flesh, blood pouring onto the cold metal floor as people surround the casualty, assuring them that they’ll be alright, when everyone knows that there’s no chance. Some people have never made it back. Wives widowed, children orphaned, families torn apart in the name of the resistance.

 

It’s still very early in the morning. Callie wakes as you’re tying your laces and she props herself up on her elbow to watch you.

“Maggie,” she whispers. “Are you going to that farm today?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Please be careful. Daddy’s gonna worry…I’m going to worry…”

Careful not to interfere with the dressing on your hip, you cross the room to give her a peck on her forehead.

“Oh, I’m comin’ back,” you smile. “We still haven’t played hide and seek down here.”

 

You leave her in bed, grab your rifle and glance briefly over to your bed, neatly made, where you secretly touched yourself last night.

 

You look in on your parents and give them both a kiss goodbye as discreetly as you can, knowing what would happen if your father woke to you leaving.

 

The sky is a mixture of blue and pink and sunrise is not far away. You inhale deeply for a lungful of fresh morning air. The car is ready and waiting for you outside with the engine running. John is already in the back seat, wearing his coat with the curious detailing, and two armed guards are loading the trunk with weapons and ammunition.

 

As you get in the back of the car, John gives you a nod and you notice that his hands are tied once again.

 

“Why’ve they tied you up?”

“They think I’ll betray the resistance today.”

“Oh...right...” You look John up and down and try to determine whether the precaution is entirely necessary. He notices and gives a small laugh.

“I wouldn’t trust me...” he says.

 

Just before you leave, Shelby walks out to wish you all good luck and to give you instructions to rendezvous with Jake who will be leading the assault.

 

The car lurches forward and begins its journey and you start to feel sick to the stomach. You’ve never seen a Peggie up close, not to mention a whole damn outpost full of them, armed to the teeth with back up one alarm call away. You’ve heard tales of flamers and rocket launchers and planes and you’re beginning to wonder if you haven’t made a huge mistake.

 

After meeting with Jake and his team, there are now eight of you in a two-car convoy heading towards the outpost. So far, no one in your car has said anything. You get the feeling everybody knows that they could be driving to their death.

 

You clear your throat and without looking at John, you quietly ask him to confirm if the rumours are true.

“John?” You twiddle your thumbs as you ask, hoping, begging for the answer to be forgiving. “Erm...do Eden’s Gate have better weapons than us?”

John doesn’t look at you either. When you quickly cast a sideways look at him, his expression is sombre.

“Yes.”

 

You want to ask what this means. Does it mean that they _do_ have rocket launchers? Will there be planes flying around and huge spiralling fires that engulf you all? John knows more than he’s letting on, and he looks as though he’s leading you to into a battle you cannot win. Suddenly you feel ill-prepared and that this cannot be a serious assault. It _must_ be a set up. No one has nearly enough information about this place! You want to scream _wait, wait, wait!_ but just as you think it, the car pulls over to the side of the road.

 

You disembark and it occurs to you that the person you feel safest with is John. The resistance isn’t as unified as you’d previously thought. Jake seems to have his own agenda and you don’t trust him at all, yet he beckons you and your party over. The worrisome feeling in your stomach intensifies.

 

A hand is pushed into the small of John’s back to propel him forwards towards Jake, where a small circle of people is forming. He huddles them around, except for John, who stands a few paces back, excluded from the pack.

“Okay people, just as we’d planned it,” Jake murmurs.

Several people in the group exchange knowing looks and nod at each other. Just as they’d planned it? You don’t recall being part of the strategic planning and you don’t know what _‘just as we planned it’_ means.

“I’m sorry...how we’d planned it? How was that, exactly?” you bravely interject.

The others turn to look at you like you’ve said something terrible. _Who are you?_ say their eyes.

“We’re gonna attack from the West-”

“What?!” John looks wide-eyed between each of the members of the group. He’s stunned. “I told you that’s suicide-”

“And _I’VE_ told _YOU_ , John Seed, that _YOU’RE_ not leading this mission _. I am_!”

 

John brings his bound hands to his head and rubs his temple, sighing in frustration. You concur. It’s a waste of time trying to get through to Jake. He’ll end up getting himself or his team killed. But there’s little you can do. _Who are you?_ Exactly.

 

One of the guardians speaks.

“What do we do with him?” He motions in John’s direction. Jake looks dumbly from you to John and back to you again.

“Be a good girl, Mags. Stay here with him? Don’t let him go anywhere.”

“Wha- are you serious?!” You call after Jake, but he is already leading the rest of the team away. _Damnit!_

 

John looks at the ground and shakes his head.

“They’re going to get themselves killed,” he says.

You pace up and down the road trying to think on your feet. John’s right. They’ll be killed.

“What do we do?!”

“Well...I can’t stay out here in the open, that’s for sure.” He’s right again. He casually begins heading back to the car, presumably to lie on the back seat and wait until it’s over, but you cannot sit back and watch this mission quite literally go up in flames.

 

“I’m going up that embankment there. You point to an overhang with dense trees. “I’ll be North-East of the outpost like you said.”

“Fine.” John shrugs his shoulders and continues towards the car.

“And _you’re_ coming with me. _”_

“Aha, I don’t think so. Your boss has made it quite clear he doesn’t want me here.”

“Fine!” You turn on your heel and march towards the embankment, your rifle in your hands. It takes about five seconds for John to roll his eyes and follow you.

 

You both creep as close to the edge of the embankment as the tree cover allows, and the outpost comes into view. It’s a modest settlement with a few small buildings and wooden outhouses and there are people in dirty-white clothes milling around. Some on rooftops, some under canopies, some walking around in the open…but they are all oblivious to your presence. You hear singing. It’s the happy voices that you heard on the radio, the ones talking about this sinful life not being enough. But this time, it’s a different song. You listen carefully to try and make out some words in the chorus.

 

_‘Oh John, bold and brave’_

 

You turn to look at John and can’t help but smirk.

 

“Are you bold and brave, John? You didn’t tell me that,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Very funny...”

“Yeah, well you’d better keep me safe like you promise to in the song.”

He looks at you but says nothing.

 

You both look out over the settlement again.

 

“Look,” says John, holding his two bound hands out in front of him, trying to indicate to one of the buildings. But instead of looking at where he is pointing, you reach into your back pocket and pull out a knife. With one upwards slice, the rope binding his wrists is cut and his hands are free.

“Thanks,” he breathes as he flexes his wrists.

 

“There’s a sniper on that roof there and on that one over there-”

You pull out your rifle and put your eye to the scope, but John stops you.

“...but I wouldn’t take them out first. Look...” He points to a tall post ascending into the air, taller than any of the buildings. There are two of them with a green light at the top.

“Those are the alarms. Take them out first. You’re not going to want reinforcements to show up.”

 

But you can’t see where to shoot. You see the pole, but you can’t see this yellow box that John has been describing to you.

“Let me-” He takes the rifle from your hands and admires it. “Nice,” he says. “Birthday present?”

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Not sure if I’d be happy with my daughter handling such a weapon,” he says as he lies forward on his stomach and brings the scope to his right eye. “...how’s your other birthday present?”

You unwittingly place a hand over your hip.

“Uh...a bit sore...”

“Yeah, that’s to be expected.”

 

He closes his left eye, licks his lips slightly and pauses. For just a second, he is completely still, until you see his finger pull back on the trigger and hear a crack. You look quickly over to the alarm post and see the green light is no longer there. But no one has noticed anything.

 

“Right,” he says, handing the rifle over to you. “You can take out the second one, quickly before the dream team turn up.”

 

You try to copy what John did. You lie on your stomach.

“Can you see from there?”

“This is what you did-”

“I’m bigger than you. Get in a position where you can see the target.”

 

You move around a little and crouch behind a large tree to your right. When you look through the scope, you can see the yellow box. You close your other eye and put your finger against the trigger...but you’re swaying too much. You can’t keep the yellow box between your crosshairs. _Damnit!_

 

“There’s too much sway,” you complain and John crouches down beside you and holds your shoulders.

“Aim, breathe in, fire, breathe out.”

 

His hold is firm, and when you look through your scope again, your sway is greatly reduced. You aim and breathe in, and as the yellow box is smack in the middle of your crosshairs, you pull back on the trigger and the recoil that you’d forgotten about pushes you backwards into John’s arms. Thankfully, he was prepared for it, catching you to keep you from hitting the ground.

 

He pats you on the shoulders by way of a ‘well done’ and helps you to your feet.

“We’ve got to work on planting your feet.”

“Thanks,” you reply.

“Don’t thank me yet. We’ve disabled a couple of alarms. Now the real work begins.” He points to a man standing on top of a roof holding a similar gun to yours.

 

“Yours is more powerful. You’ve got this.”

 

So this is it. As John sits with his back against a nearby tree, one leg up, arm rested on his knee, you’re aiming at a human being, preparing to take a life and possibly widow another woman or orphan another child. Your palms begin to sweat and your heart is beating fast.

 

You plant your feet and bring the man’s head between your crosshairs. You breathe. You pause. You fire. You watch as the body falls and you wait for the feeling to come. But it doesn’t. The feeling of guilt and panic. You half expected to drop the rifle in despair, but you feel no different to when you shot the alarm.

 

You immediately locate the other sniper and take him out too as John watches.

 

“What now?” you ask. John seems impressed. It seems that he too thought you might not have the stomach for this.

“We’re going to have to change position, maybe get a bit closer-”

 

Before he can finish his sentence, the sound of gunfire erupts around you and John is reaching for you. As if in slow motion, his hands close around your arms and he pulls you back and away from the edge of the embankment. In your confusion, he takes your hand and drags you further into the darkness of the tree cover, deeper and deeper, until the gunshots sound echo-ey and distant. You can no longer hear the indiscernible shouts of both Peggies and resistance.

 

He pulls you behind a tree and crouches behind it.

 

“What’s going on?”

“Shhh...”

 

You do as you’re told and watch him as he looks beyond the tree. He’s checking to see if anyone’s coming. Then he looks down at you.

 

“Looks like Jake has begun his assault.”

“What?” You try to scramble to your feet. “I’d better go and help-”

John pushes you back down to the ground.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” you scoff as you try to stand again. He grabs your arms and pushes you against the tree.

“I said no. Stay here and don’t move.”

 

You frown and fold your arms. When John’s satisfied that you’re not going to make a run for it, he let’s go of your arms and sits with his back against another tree.

 

The two of you sit, listening to the fighting, staring into the near distance and waiting for the shots to subside.

 

After a while, the gunfire stops and you look to John. He’s thinking the same as you. You wait another few minutes before standing. Your heart is hammering. _Who won? How many did we lose? Do we have the outpost or don’t we?_

 

A crackle comes through your radio, followed by a voice.

“Maggie? Maggie, you there?” comes Jake’s strained calls. “Maggie, we’re retreatin’. Cult’s too strong for us. We’ve lost a few. Head back to US Auto.”

 

You look over to John, who is wide-eyed in disbelief.

 

“Come on,” John says as he stands up. “You tried.”

“No!” you say defiantly. “ _They_ might want to retreat, but if we leave now, we go right back to square one. I’m not prepared to do that.”

“Maggie, it’s over. You lost.”

“No, _they_ lost. I... _we_ can still win this.”

 

John sighs.

 

You don’t give him a choice. You run towards the edge of the embankment with your knife in your hand, scramble down the steep North side and come to a stop at the metal fence surrounding the outpost.

 

From speakers all around, you hear John’s voice:

 

_‘Cherish this feeling. Let it carry you...’_

 

You begin furiously cutting a hole in the fence with your knife, determined to get in there to finish what you started.

 

_Thwack_

 

One link of metal gives way.

 

_Thwack_

 

Another gives way.

 

You hear footsteps behind you and John appears behind your shoulder.

 

“This isn’t a good idea!” he whispers, his head whipping around in all directions.

 

_Thwack thwack thwack_

 

The fence is cut just enough for you to squeeze yourself through, after which, you head to a small outhouse nearby, carefully opening the door and slipping inside.

 

On the floor, there’s a body. It’s a Peggie. It looks like he suffered a bullet to the head, but beside him is a pistol, which you pick up for yourself.

 

John follows soon after. He’s breathing pretty heavily.

“What’s the matter,” you ask. “Not used to running around in the shadows?”

He shoots you an unamused look and joins you in peering out of the window.

 

“I see three more.” You show John the gun you just picked up.

“.44 Magnum,” he says. “Packs a hell of a punch. And it’s loud. Do you want to tell the world you’re here?”

You put the weapon down and pull out your knife, at which John nods approvingly.

“Now it’s just about the art of stealth.”

 

You both leave the outhouse and head towards another building. You creep around the back until you’re a few feet away from Peggie number one. His back is to you and you begin to creep up behind him when John throws his arm out to stop you. You watch John approach him and swiftly twist his neck. He crumples to the floor.

 

Peggie number two has just entered the main house. You both creep inside, avoiding the bodies strewn around the floor, and John lets you do the honours, not before tapping his neck to indicate you should slit his throat.

 

You do so and watch the man collapse to the floor, clawing at his neck as a waterfall of red cascades from his throat and forms a pool on the wooden floor.

 

The last Peggie is walking around the perimeter of the outpost, seemingly unaware that his colleagues have fallen.

 

You and John have been closing the distance between you and him for a while and are ready to strike. John grabs him and holds his head back, exposing his throat for you to strike, which you do without hesitation. The blood gurgles from the opening in his neck and each one of his limbs go limp. John drops him as he becomes dead weight, and the two of you take a minute to catch your breath.

 

“Shelby,” you call through the radio.

“Maggie? Christ! Are you okay? When I heard Jake radio through I feared the worst! Did you make it out of-”

“Sunrise Farm has been liberated. It’s done.”

 

You toss the radio into the grass, ignoring Shelby’s replies. John slumps against the metal fence, bringing a knee up.

 

“Well Done. My brother would love to meet you,” he says.

You give a weak laugh.

“You talking about your other brother now? Not the psychopath one?”

John laughs too.

 

You sit on the grass opposite John and notice specks of blood decorating his face, and you suspect that you have similar red flecks.

 

John clears his throat.

“About last night,” he starts. “Did it frighten you?”

You know what he’s talking about, and you can’t pretend it didn’t. How easily he reacted to your touch makes you wonder how often it happens, and not just with John. You cast your mind back to Connor and wonder if you’d ever had that affect on him.

“A little, I guess...”

John grins, exposing those beautiful white teeth and deepening the lines around his eyes.

“S’just a thing that happens.” John shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I’d...like to know more...” You shuffle towards him.

 

“I’m sure you will one d-“

He’s cut off as you launch yourself into his lap and part his lips with your tongue. He rewards you with a surprised guttural moan as you take his head in your hands and explore the inner depths of his mouth.

 

You briefly feel one arm come behind you, bracing you almost. He can barely move and has little choice but to accept your brazen advances. You straddle him and take fistfuls of his coat in your hands, simultaneously pulling him into you and pushing him up and against the metal fence which rings and rattles out.

 

The friction of your jeans and his feels good, and gets only better when that familiar sensation returns. Your stomach is twisting into knots and you want to grind against him every time a deep moan reverberates from his throat. It is impossible to tell whether his noises are out of protest or satisfaction, but you entrust him to keep them coming as you clumsily fumble with the buttons on his vest.

 

He doesn’t stop you, nor does he advance upon you. One hand is splayed out on the grass beside him to keep him from collapsing under your onslaught, the other holds you in place.

 

His body betrays him in so many ways, yet he manages to maintain control to the point he needs to. He hardens beneath you yet does not seek your ministrations, but he allows them. He allows you to explore him. He allows you to learn from him. He is allowing you to use him as your bridge between adolescence and adulthood.

 

His vest is undone and you make short work of his shirt, opening it up to reveal his chest, riddled with marks and grooves. You don’t take your mouth from his for the fear that he would put a stop to this if given the opportunity. As a result, you both breathe deeply in and out through your noses, frowning in focus as you snake your hand up his chest and over a shoulder, holding him close to you.

 

Your other hand sweeps over the defined abs of his stomach to reach a trail of soft dark hair. Your fingertips tease him as you try to push your fingers under his waistband.

 

The hand on his shoulder comes down to his chest, pushing him back into the fence, restraining him as your other hand begins working on the belt that is preventing you from exploring further.

 

You know that he could put a stop to this if he wanted. He’s larger and stronger than you. You suspect that he wouldn’t ever choose you for this. Yet he continues to allow it.

 

The belt is undone and you undo the zip of his jeans. Your lips are still fixed firmly to his and are beginning to ache as he starts to kiss you back. When you feel him twitching against your leg, you are beyond the point of control.

 

You hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxer shorts and delve further in, searching for answers. You’re not even bothered about what it looks like. You want to know how it _feels_ against your fingers; how it feels in the palm of your hand.

 

Your fingers touch smooth, warm flesh and John moans loudly into your mouth, frowning and breathing frantically as he does so, when the sound of people approaching makes you freeze.

 

You pull away from John and scramble to your feet. John fumbles to dress himself, first attending to the buttons on his shirt, his fingers moving deftly from bottom to top.

 

“Maggie?!” echoes Shelby’s voice. “Maggie?!”

 

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and get impatient watching John.

 

“Maggie, are you here?!” comes another call. They’re getting closer, not far from rounding the corner, you’d say.

 

As John fixes the buttons on his vest, you do up the zip on his jeans and try to help with the belt, but he swats your hand away.

 

“Get behind me and put the gun to my head,” he says.

“What?”

“Put the fucking gun to my head!” he repeats, a note of urgency behind gritted teeth.

 

Just as he finishes fastening his belt, you raise the magnum and point it at his head, at which point, Shelby rounds the corner.

 

“Shit, Maggie!” She runs up to you. She looks from you to John. “We feared he’d taken you...”

John looks mildly offended at the suggestion and looks to you.

“I’m just conducting a perimeter sweep,” you say. “Wouldn’t want to miss a second wave.”

Shelby puts her gun back into her holster.

“A good idea, though I wouldn’t suggest doing it on your own again.”

She eyes John suspiciously. “At any rate, you need to be debriefed, as do I. I’d quite like to know what happened here; How you came to be split up and why Jake made it back and you didn’t.”

“Sure,” you nod. Shelby looks again to John.

“And I think it’s time we talked, John Seed.”


	10. Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelby has her suspicions regarding the relationship that you and John share and she is less than pleased. Following your success at Sunrise Farm, she has some stark words for you.

 

“Your intel. so far has been good, John Seed. For that, I thank you. The resistance thanks you.”

 

Shelby was quiet on the journey back from Sunrise Farm. She didn’t say a word when you got into the car, nor at any point on the journey back; not even when you pulled over to throw up at the side of the road with the stark images of human insides at the front and centre of your thoughts. Even the walk from the car back into the compound and down into the deep, claustrophobic depths of the bunker was silent and tense. She had dispensed of her guards until she was left with just you and John accompanying her on the march to the control room.

 

Now, with her hair hanging dead-straight in identical drape-like columns either side of her face, she addresses you both from behind a table. You feel like a naughty school child in the headmistress’s office, both you and John with your backs to the door and your heads down in submission.

 

She is not pleased.

 

“However,” she continues. “It has not escaped my notice that you have formed, shall we say, a bond...with one of our newest members.” She gives you a quick look and you have the sense to avoid her gaze. Beside you, you feel John shift uncomfortably.

 

“My position on this is a tricky one, John. You see, most of the people in this compound would have me put you to death.” The echo of the word reverberates around the room, producing relentless encores.

 

_Death. Death. Death._

 

“But so far, you have proven to be helpful in regard to our response to Eden’s Gate. Which is why it is so much more difficult when something like this happens.” She gestures to you and John.

 

You realise that you may have let her down but feel an unmistakeable pang of resentment for what you know she is about to do.

 

“John, for reasons I am sure you will understand, we will not be extending your privileges at this time,” she says, and John shrugs his shoulders like he couldn’t care less. “However, we would like to extend our thanks for your cooperation and we hope that we continue to receive your support in our efforts to overcome Eden’s Gate.”

 

John folds his arms but doesn’t say a word. He’s not here for thanks.

 

Shelby turns to you.

 

“Maggie, your decision to remain at the outpost today was in direct violation of Jake’s orders. You put your own life at risk and could have compromised our whole operation, not to mention the fact that our asset may have fallen into enemy hands.” She jerks her head towards John as she says ‘asset’.

 

You feel appalled at yourself and you know that her words are true. You just didn’t think it at the time. She’s building to something and you know it’s going to be something awful, but then John interjects.

 

“She got that outpost for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Shelby sighs. “John, we do things a little differently here. We are not Eden’s Gate. We do not put individuals out into the field for the sake of strategic advantage-“

“She didn’t have much of a choice,” he continues. “That asshole left her alone with me, which I should add was a huge mistake given who I am, and he foolishly led an assault against my advice which inevitably led to them fucking this whole thing up. What did you expect her to do?”

“I expect her to retreat when given the order to do so-“

“She showed courage out there, and a dedication to your flawed resistance-“

“Our what?”

“You have your heralds much as Joseph has his, except Joseph’s are loyal to him-“

“I’m warning you, Seed-“

“They’re competent and they follow orders. They lead. They’re role models to their flocks. Can you honestly say the same of this Jake?”

 

Shelby folds her arms and smiles at John. It isn’t a pleasant smile and you have a feeling that John has overstepped.

“When you referred to those loyal heralds of Joseph’s,” she says. “I hope you weren’t including yourself in that list?”

 

John looks to the ceiling in despair. Shelby isn’t hearing him and he’s getting frustrated.

 

“Shelby,” you croak through your shameful silence. “I’m sorry...I...” You don’t know how to justify your defiance. John looks across to you, begging you with his stare to stop apologising, but he knows better than to undermine you when he is fighting for your empowerment.

 

“Maggie,” Shelby starts again, her tone a little more sympathetic. “Is your father aware that you have been visiting John?”

 

Both you and John exchange horrified looks. Just how much does she know? Her visits to John Seed were her little secrets, her own little rebellion within the cold walls underground. His room was a safe-space in which she could say and do what she wanted because John was incapable of judging her. Now someone knows about it?

 

“I hope you’re not suggesting-“

“The surveillance was revoked from your room, John Seed. I couldn’t possibly know what has happened behind your door. But I do know that Mr Adams would _not_ be happy to learn that you have been hosting his daughter without his knowledge.”

 

You feel the hot swell of anger beneath your skin and the flush of red in your cheeks.

 

Shelby dismisses John, who exits the room with maximum effect and turns her full attention to you.

 

“We don’t know him, Maggie.”

 

You grit your teeth and fix your glare on the wall behind her.

 

“Maggie, I’m fulfilling my duty of protecting you. He is the most dangerous man down here and you choose _him_ to spend your time with? Do you even know what he’s done?”

 

Dig down. Plant your feet. Do. Not. Sway. _Do. Not. Bend._

 

“Maggie? Has he... _touched_ you?”

 

It’s getting harder and harder to resist the urge to pick up the paperweight on her desk and hurl it at her. You imagine your face to be beetroot-red by now, but she keeps plucking away.

 

“I’ve spoken to Jake. He wants you back at US Auto...as a long-term thing. He wants you there by this evening. John will remain here.”

 

You don’t give Shelby a chance to explain or console. You turn on your heel and leave.

 

* * *

 

It feels longer than a week since you saw your family, and when you check the calendar, you’re surprised to realise that you’ve been touching yourself for seven whole days now.

 

Last night, you pictured John slumped against the metal fence at Sunrise Farm, surrendered to your affections - your favourite way to remember him, second only to him marking your skin, stood over you, his tight jeans taut and his cock hard. When you hear his moaning, you come for the first time. But the sensation is lost to sorrow.

 

Jake’s ego is severely bruised and he’s been involving you in his plans a lot more recently. You act as his second in command of US Auto and he seems pleased with your input. More people have begun to arrive at the outpost, setting up an armoury, a garden and a kitchen and you have been true to your word and have found some beds. You and Jake sleep upstairs in the command room and the others sleep downstairs.

 

Jake informs you of Shelby’s plans to begin uniting with resistance in the Whitetail Mountains but you feel indifferent to it all. None of it matters without John to push it through. You’re not naïve and you expect that he has had some input into the plans back at the compound, but you feel your efforts aren’t appreciated and that you may as well be better off on your own. Some of those people still exist, wandering around Hope County, avoiding Eden’s Gate but resisting the resistance.

 

For the past week, the mission has been to simply wait for further instructions; to hold the outpost and help those who come to you in need. For days, nothing happens, but then, a call comes through.

 

* * *

 

It comes as a high priority call through the radio and both you and Jake are present to hear it. Someone is in distress just south of Redler Creek and Shelby is sending you both to bring them in.

 

Jake pulls the quad-bike over at the side of the road next to a dense cluster of trees and warns you to stay low and aware. You’re looking for a man and that’s pretty much all that you know. Shelby said he sounded frightened and confused; _a lamb to the slaughter_ is what you fear.

 

You both have your guns drawn as you walk side by side towards the trees. There is a chill in the air today and it makes every subtle breath of wind feel twice as intense.

 

The sound of a footstep too close behind you sounds and you see Jake swivel round to look over your shoulder but he’s soon in a heap on the ground having been whacked on the head with the stock of a shotgun. Your response is too late. The gun is knocked from your hands and a burly man with scruffy hair twists your arm behind your back, pulling you agonisingly hard into submission.

 

“Aargh!” You fight back. But another man slaps you harshly.

“Quit it, girly,” he growls.

You submit and pant to gain your breath back and you think at first that the two men simply want to hold you here...but then you make out a silhouette approaching from the trees. One of the men holds your face between his large, sweaty fingertips, steering your gaze to focus on the figure.

 

He emerges from the edge of the cluster, the light casting a shadow over one side of his face. A familiar face - one that you have been conditioned to recognise.

 

_The Father._

 

He looks like his brother. He looks like John. Only, he is more gaunt than John. He is more beautiful, with Picasso-esque angular lines making up the features of his face. His is sinister, but he walks toward you with open and forgiving arms.

 

You pull with your arms and wriggle to escape the clutches of the burly men behind you but it’s no use. Joseph is already upon you.

 

“Cease your struggles,” he hums. His soft voice quietly carries on the wind. “It pains me to see that they have sent someone so young...” He brings a calloused hand to your face and you grimace as he touches you. Then he brings his face close to yours and leans in to whisper into your ears. “You have something of mine.” His voice is a long, drawl with a subtle southern tone.

 

You scowl at him.

 

“My brother...” he growls. “...I want him back.”


	11. He hasn't converted me yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph Seed holds you and attempts to get John back from you. He uses the opportunity to convince you to join The Project

 

You wake upright.

 

Your head lolls around and it’s heaviness pulls painfully. The pain across your temple throbs where one of Joseph’s men hit you, and since you are unable to move, you suspect that you’re being held by them. _But not for long, right?_

 

He may have lured you out. He may have captured you. But he will not _hold_ you. He will not _restrain_ you. He will not _keep_ you.

 

But you don’t need to plot your escape or struggle against your bindings, for The Father has come. He clicks his fingers at two of his men and they immediately loosen the rope around you.

 

“My brother,” he begins. “...has a tormented soul.” He pulls a chair across the floor to seat it opposite you, where he proceeds to cross one leg over the other and clasp his hands together gently in his lap. You feel like you’re sitting across from a psychiatrist. “He... _craves_ all that is fearsome and hateful.” He removes his glasses and polishes them on the hem of his grey suit jacket, before delicately placing them back over his sad, worrisome eyes. “I fear for his sanity. He needs to be with his family.”

 

He looks you straight in the eye, awaiting a response, as if you alone hold the power to produce John from your back pocket. But when you don’t say anything, he sighs, uncrosses his legs and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and the two index fingers of his clasped hands over his lips.

 

“I have allowed your families and friends back at that compound of yours some space. The project has not intervened, we have not conquered, we have not so much as _broadcast_ a single _tone_ over that _sinful station_.”

 

He’s not losing it as you suspect John would. John would be on his feet by now, pacing up and down, animated, agitated; Joseph is calm. He is serene. You suspect there’s little you could say to aggravate him.

 

“The longer you hold him, the weaker his resolve becomes...”

 

 _The longer you hold him?_ He doesn’t know ...

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snap at him, almost wishing for him to lash out, unleash the beast that must be inside of him and unravel before you. Of course, he doesn’t.

 

“That is a shame.” He shakes his head with regretful eyes. “Your partner Jake is currently on his way back to your compound. He’s delivering a message. A life for a life, I believe goes the saying.”

 

“You think they’ll let John go in exchange for me?” you scoff.

Joseph smiles.

“Do they love you there as much as we would here?”

 

Silence. What can you say to that? It’s true. You don’t feel appreciated the way you feel you should be. You don’t feel respected or free to make your own decisions, whether they’re bad or not! If you want to fuck John Seed, then you’ll fuck John Seed!

 

Joseph waits patiently for your answer. He can see in your eyes that you’ve considered abandoning the resistance, and by god he will try to turn you.

 

“Here, we wouldn’t stop you from taking up arms or from going wherever pleased you. Eden’s Gate loves you.” He blinks slowly. “And you would love us back.”

 

* * *

 

 

You don’t have much awareness of the passage of time. Every time Joseph visits you, he is wearing something different, and sometimes he wears no shirt at all. Sometimes, he comes in, hot, riled and perspiring from a particularly passionate sermon and he gets close enough for you to see the dampness of his hair and the beads of sweat on his chest, which is also marked like John’s; he wears every sin like it’s a companion - a constant reminder of his mission.

 

He talks to you about them occasionally. He shares his story, hoping that you’ll be moved. He tells you about John and his tormented childhood, about his abuse and how it led to his own story of salvation, and even though he can tell you why John must return to The Father’s forgiving embrace, it doesn’t persuade you, and you resign yourself to waiting for your own salvation.

 

One day, Joseph comes into the room in which you’re kept and kneels before you, taking your hands in his and praying to God for you to confess your sins and give yourself over to Eden’s Gate.

“Lord,” he says to the heavens. “Forgive those who have yet to confess, who have yet to atone...those who do not yet know their trespasses and their sin. Give this child over to my flock. Deliver her from the perilous and futile mission she serves. Release her unto me so that I may guide her into your loving embrace...”

 

You let him say his prayer. You admit to yourself that it feels nice to have someone hold you and you realise the difference between Joseph’s hands and John’s. John’s hands were smooth and soft, clearly manicured - the hands of a self-preserving pampered boy. Joseph’s are the hands of a man who has worked and toiled. They are rough, covered in marks and scars. But Joseph has the gentler touch. John would hold you firm in his grip. The Father merely takes you.

 

The prayer does not work and Joseph leaves disappointed.

 

You are given food and water. As a hostage, proof of life is non-negotiable, but you feel it goes deeper than that. Joseph wouldn’t hold someone without feeding them. He is a man of god, after all.

* * *

 

 

The day you’re rescued, you don’t see Joseph, and you later suppose that is why they chose that day to come and get you.

 

Your lips are dry. The Father’s patience has been wearing thin and your rations have declined. You have been beginning to understand how John must have felt in his room back at the compound. Trapped. Confined. He must have felt more like a caged animal than you do right now given his nature.

 

But when the shots fire above and you hear the sounds of bodies slumping against the wall on the other side of the door, you hope your prayers have been answered. And when you see Bobby’s kind face emerge from the doorway, you run over and throw your arms around him.

 

You were not yet ready to give yourself over to The Project.

 

* * *

 

 

You are not returned to US Auto. Instead you are taken straight back to the compound and given strict instructions to rest and recuperate. You’re happy to comply. Family and friends visit you and bring you cake and other nice foods. You spend a lot of time with Callie, who thinks that bringing Boomer to your bedside every night will get you back on your feet sooner. She’s not wrong. You invite the hound onto your bed in the evenings and he curls up at your feet.

 

When your parents visit, they bring paper and pens, crossword puzzles salvaged from months and months ago, sudokus and word searches. Your father refuses to talk about anything Seed. But when Bobby comes to visit, he talks a little about what’s been occurring both in and out of the compound whilst you’ve been bedroom-bound. He has a soft spot for you and he can be persuaded.

 

“He’s pretty distraught over it,” he says of John. “S’made people change their views of him.

 

He tells you all about how John was first to volunteer himself in an attempt to get you back and how he had obviously been shot down. He goes on to describe an agitated and despairing man who would pace the corridors waiting for word of your safe return.

 

You hear enough to convince you to take a pen and paper and scribble a note for him.

**_H e  h a s n ’ t  c o n v e r t e d  m e  y e t_ **


End file.
